


Faith of a Sort

by awaytobeunshaken



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cleric Hugh, Crossover/AU - Dungeons & Dragons, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Monk Michael, Rogue Tilly, Wizard Paul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 21:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17649914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awaytobeunshaken/pseuds/awaytobeunshaken
Summary: Paul has dedicated his life's work to uncovering the secrets of interplanar travel. He's been travelling with his friends Michael and Tilly for over two years, following up on whatever leads he can find to help his research. When their lack of healing skills nearly leads to disaster, Paul meets a kind and handsome cleric in a small village.





	1. Friends (Enchantment Cantrip - Wizard)

“Tilly!” Paul yelled, hurling an acid bubble at the spider that had leapt atop her, obscuring all but her fiery red curls. The creature hissed and skittered back to the ground, weakened and blind, but not dead yet. He glanced at Michael, who was holding her own against two more of the spiders, fists and elbows flying. He flung a frost ray between them, hoping to slow the foes down enough for Michael to make short work of them.

The other spider, in its blind attempt to flee, rammed its head straight into Paul’s knee, sending the wizard stumbling backward onto the ground. Reflexively, he swung his staff toward the creature, which scurried forward under the weapon and hovered over him, its mandibles widening.

Suddenly the creature collapsed on top him him, driving the air from his lungs. He attempted to sit up, but couldn’t shift enough of the spider’s weight to do so. He did manage to shift his body enough to breathe again, and that’s when he saw Tilly’s dagger sticking in the spider’s neck. “Thanks for the save,” he called, but she didn’t respond.

“I’ve got you,” Michael said as she approached, then threw herself against the spider’s corpse, pushing it aside a bit at a time until Paul was free. “Are you hurt?” 

Paul’s neck protested as he tried to turn his head, and he could feel ribs beginning to bruise, but nothing life-threatening. “I’ll live; what about Tilly?” He hurried to the halfling woman’s side as quickly as his body would allow. 

“Paul?” She was conscious, but her voice wavered as she spoke.

“Michael!” he shouted. “We’re gonna need one of those healing potions!”

Michael shook her head. “We used the last one two days ago. We’ll have to treat her ourselves. Where is she wounded?”

Tilly had a few scratches on her shoulder and a bruise spreading across her right cheek. Paul carefully examined her upper body where the spider had landed, but nothing seemed broken. “I don’t know, it all looks superficial.”

“Probably poison then, considering the source. The potion wouldn’t have done much good anyway.” She handed him a bottle of pale green liquid. “This should slow it down, at least. But we’ll need to get her to a temple.”

Paul lifted Tilly’s head and slowly tipped the liquid into her mouth. She coughed as the fluid hit her throat, but then sat up and swallowed half-heartedly. “How are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts and I wanna just sleep for a week.”

He gripped her hand. “Don’t go to sleep. We’re taking you to a healer. Can you walk?” They weren’t far from the next village, maybe half a day’s walk, but that was assuming they were all healthy.

“I-I think so. For a little bit.”

“We should start moving, then,” Michael said. “I’ll get your pack.” She scooped it up and started back toward the road. Paul followed, letting Tilly grip his arm and lean on him for support as she struggled along beside him.

The sun was just beginning to set when they spotted the first of the houses outside of town. Tilly’s strength had given out several hours ago, and Paul had been carrying her since then. Michael had offered to switch places a few times, but he’d refused; it reassured him to feel Tilly’s heartbeat against his back. Besides, he suspected the combined weight of their gear was rather more than that of the young halfling.

There wasn’t much to the village:  a small inn, a handful of stalls selling food and basic goods, and a nondescript building that he wouldn’t have taken for a house of worship if not for the inscription on the door. He wasn’t sure he’d even call it a temple, a chapel maybe. Paul counted out a few gold pieces from their shared supply and handed them to Michael. “Get us a room for tonight. I’ll meet you at the inn.”

The inside of the temple was laid out like many he’d seen; a central altar surrounded by a stone floor and a ring of pillars to the ceiling. It was less ostentatious than most, however; the floor was untiled clay, and the pillars made from local wood rather than marble. Three priests knelt in prayer around the perimeter; one rose to meet him at the center of the room.

“You seek healing?” she inquired. 

Paul dropped to one knee and lowered Tilly to the ground between them. “Please. She’s been poisoned.” He passed two gold pieces to the priest. She knelt beside Tilly, laying her hands on the halfling and muttering a quiet prayer. 

Tilly opened her eyes and took a deep breath, then another. “Paul?” She blinked rapidly as she examined her surroundings.

“Yeah. We’ve got you all fixed up. Michael’s waiting at the inn.” 

“Is there anything else you need?” the priest asked. 

“No.” Paul found himself suddenly aware of a myriad of aches and pains, both from the battle and the trek afterward, but he was hardly going to waste gold on sore muscles. Still... “Well, maybe. Do you have potions?” He was never quite comfortable in temples, even one as simple as this.

She pointed to one of the men still kneeling against the wall. “Brother Hugh will assist you.”

Paul approached the man and emptied the contents of his purse. “I want as many healing potions as you can give me. Oh, and a couple of... antidotes, I guess?” That was something, he was pretty sure. “Sorry, I don’t usually handle this bit.”

Hugh’s eyes widened. “That’ll get you three bottles. Just a minute.” He went to a cabinet along the wall and retrieved two bottles of red liquid and one green. “Red’s your standard healing potion. The green is an anti-toxin. You always want to keep something on hand in case of poisons.” Hugh smiled as he handed the bottles over. “Take care of yourself.”

* * *

 

Paul sat at a table in the corner of the tavern, picking at what meager supper he’d been able to afford after buying the potions. Tilly danced in front of the fire to the music of a bard Paul couldn’t hear. Michael sat alone at the bar, nursing a drink; typical for her, especially after a long day. But Paul’s mind was still on edge. It had been a long time since he’d lost a friend, and coming so close just now made him feel vulnerable.  He didn’t like it.

Slowly he realized why he couldn’t hear the bard’s music. Someone else was singing, seemingly unaware that they were in the middle of a crowded tavern. The voice was clear and melodic, and though the tune was unfamiliar, some other time Paul might have appreciated it. But right now, tonight, on top of the rest of the day, it was too much. “If you insist on making that blasted noise,” he shouted, “take it somewhere else!”

The voice faded, thankfully, but soon returned, growing even louder, until a flash of movement made Paul look up to see its owner taking the seat across from him. He was on the verge of shouting again until he realized he recognized the man. It was Hugh, the priest who’d sold him the potions. “Is that how you treat someone who gave you a discount on life-saving medical supplies?”

“Why would you give me a discount?”

“I couldn’t help it; seeing how... worried you were. Besides, I don’t think Eldath would mind.”  Away from the harsh lights of the temple, Paul could see how handsome Hugh was, and the low neckline of his civilian shirt showed off the line of muscle at his chest. Underneath his modest demeanor, he was clearly in training. “Are you injured as well? If you like I could...” Hugh let the offer hover between them.

Paul shook his head. “Nothing I can’t sleep off.”

“Still, if you’re going to be travelling much, it would be beneficial to learn a few basic healing prayers. Nothing complicated, but it could get you out of a bad scrape.”

There it was. All this, just to get close to him and preach the good word of--who had he said? Eldath? “Thanks, but I’m not really one for religion. I mean, I accept the gods, and what they do, but I just never really saw the point of it.”

“I see.” Hugh stood, the chair scraping backward. “Better to have your woman die of poison, then.”

“Wait! She’s not my--” Ugh, as if  _ that  _ were the most important thing. “I didn’t--” Before Paul could form some kind of sentence, Hugh was gone.

* * *

 

By noon the next day they were making their way out of the village, Paul gingerly shifting the weight of the staff on his back. His chest and shoulders still ached from the previous day. He could have used another day’s rest, but the inn and the temple had taken much of their gold, and waiting wasn’t going to earn them more.

Paul lowered his head as they neared the temple. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Hugh since the man had left the inn last evening, and the number of people who’d done  _ that  _ to him he could count on one hand. If he hadn’t made such a mess of things... Still, they were unlikely to pass through this village again, and there were other men in Faerun.

His resolve didn’t stop him from slowing down as he heard singing coming from the temple, a hymn similar to the one he’d heard last night, Hugh’s clear voice rising above the rest. If it had been another day, if he hadn’t just nearly lost his best friend, he might’ve...

“Paul!” Michael had turned to face him. “You did say we ought to leave  _ today,  _ if you recall. Change of plans?”

Paul glanced at the now silent temple. He’d studied little of divination, and he wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was a portent of some kind, but every instinct he had was telling him not to walk away from this. “Perhaps. How d’you feel about learning a few healing prayers?”

Paul was already approaching the door of the temple when Hugh stepped out into the garden. “May I help you?” Hugh asked, almost as an obligation, no warmth in his eyes or in his voice.

“I’ve had some time to consider your suggestion, and I think you’re right. A bit of healing knowledge would be helpful.”

“So perhaps my life’s calling isn’t so pointless.”

“I never said it was pointless! I said I-- All right, I guess I did, in a way.” He’d said exactly that, of course, but Paul was determined to maintain  _ some  _ dignity. “I just meant, I didn’t see the point for myself. I’ve never felt the connection to a god that others do.”

“They speak to all of us differently.” Hugh’s expression immediately changed, the hint of a smile jumping to his lips and eyes. “Still, if what you say is true, we may not find a god to hear your prayers.”   


“I wouldn’t expect one to. They might be more receptive to Michael, though.” He indicated the half-elf woman waiting outside the garden.

“I’ve actually got another idea, if you’d be amenable. Which way is your party headed?”

“North. I’ve heard a lot about the libraries in Westgate, and I’m hoping the Dragon Coast might have some new components for my research.”

“I’ve considered travelling to Westgate soon, myself, to join our congregation there. A village this size doesn’t require so many hands. Perhaps I could travel with you.”

Paul tried not to smile too broadly, but this was better than he’d hoped. “We might be amenable to that.” He motioned for Michael and Tilly to join them and explained the plan.

“I could teach you some prayers along the way,” Hugh said to Michael, “and I can hold my own in a fight as well.”

“I though Eldath was a goddess of peace,” Michael said.

“And sometimes the path to peace compels us to fight injustice,” Hugh replied.

“Quite a nuanced view,” Paul said, raising an eyebrow.

Hugh’s eyes darkened, and Paul feared he’d angered him again, but the other man merely frowned and said, “I’ve no patience for those who would harm another for their own gain.”

“So when do we go?” This time it was Tilly’s voice reminding Paul the rest of the world existed..

“I’ll need a day or two to prepare,” said Hugh. “Since you’ll be working on behalf of the temple, they will help provide supplies for our journey. You’re also welcome to stay here tonight; though I’m afraid it’s barracks-style. We couldn’t offer any privacy.” He glanced from Tilly to Paul.

“Wait, what?” the halfling exclaimed. “You thought...” She let out a nervous laugh. “No! I mean, I’m not interested in big people and he’s not interested in women, so, that would kind of never happen, and...”

Paul was distracted from the rest of Tilly’s rambling by the subtle smile that spread across Hugh’s face again, and he wondered if it was worth hoping... 

“We will remain here, then,” said Michael, “until you’re ready to depart.” 

Hugh turned and entered the building, and the other three followed.

  
  
  
  



	2. Commune (5th level Divination - Cleric)

“I was _not_ trying to case you!” Tilly scowled.

They’d been on the road for several days now. Michael had gone to the nearby riverbank to meditate after dinner while the rest of them chatted by the fire.

“She was definitely trying to case me. Trying to distract me with flattery about how my work was _so fascinating._ ” Paul smirked. “Luckily I was immune to her charms.”

“It _is_ fascinating! I don’t have the head for that magic stuff in the first place, and what he wants to do-- blinking from place to place, from one side of the world to the other, exploring the _planes?_ I mean, it makes my brain hurt. But it’s so fucking cool.”

“So, she was going to rob you, and you just let her stick around?” Hugh wondered.

“There was no getting rid of her. Better that I could keep an eye on her, at least. And she’s smarter than she lets on.”

“Now who’s the flatterer? Besides, I only take what someone can afford to lose; which in his case was not much.  You know, he _never_ talks this much.”

“As if I get the opportunity.” Paul’s words could have read as harsh, but Hugh could see the kindness in his eyes. Besides, you know everything about me. What am I supposed to talk about at this point?”

“ _Especially_ to strangers.” She winked in Hugh’s direction.

“I saw that,” said Paul. “It was very obvious. And inappropriate.”

Tilly ignored him. “I’m going to find Michael.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets and started toward the river.

“Don’t interrupt her while she’s meditating,” Paul sighed.

“I won’t. I’m just gonna join her.”

“That would involve being quiet for more than thirty seconds!” Paul raised his voice as she moved farther away.

Tilly made a rude gesture over her shoulder and disappeared into the woods.

Hugh smiled and raised his eyebrows at Paul. “So what exactly did you mean by ‘inappropriate’?”

“You see what she’s doing now, don’t you? Trying to get us alone together?”

“And is that a problem? Because I got the impression you were interested in more than just my healing spells.”

“Well, yes. It’s been nice to have the company.”

“I see.” Hugh smiled and wished he could will his heart to a slower pace. “Well, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. Which I’m not sure I expected.”

“Oh?” Paul returned the smile. “And what were you expecting from me?”

Hugh shrugged. “A grumpy mystic who’s too far inside his own head and his work to see what’s around him?” He raised an eyebrow and let his smile grow into a full-on grin. “Actually, when I put it that way, you’re exactly what I expected.”

“You know, you’re talking to a man who can conjure all sorts of nasty things to throw at you.” Paul twirled a ball of light on one fingertip.

“As if you’d risk damaging this face.”

Paul closed his hand and the light vanished. “Of course not.”

“See, you are who I expected. But you’re also more than that. You care about your friends, and they trust you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They follow you. They don’t have to.”

“What about you?”

“Our goals are aligned.”

“And the fact that you chose us, out of all the travelers on their way to the city? That was just coincidence?”

“Some might say that. Or some might call it providence. The gods speak to us in many ways.” And why in the world had he said that? Eldath had given him many gifts, but the idea that she would deliver a handsome man to his doorstep stretched even Hugh’s faith. “Although that’s not to say we wouldn’t encounter one another in Westgate.”

“Oh, we aren’t staying in Westgate. I’ve read about some of the flora native to the surrounding areas, and it seems promising for my research.”

“Ah, just passing through, then.” Hugh tried to keep the disappointment from his face. It was fine, really. They’d have another few days together, maybe a week while the party re-supplied, and then Paul would be gone, and he wouldn’t have to wonder anymore.

“Of course, if that promise bears out, it may be wise to take up residence in the city for a time.”

“Oh!” Hugh swallowed, but couldn’t stop the smile creeping to his face any more than he could the hope rising in his heart. “Well, I hope you find something. Shit!” he added as an arrow flew over their heads.

Before Hugh could glean any information about their foe, Paul was on his feet, conjuring a thick fog around their campsite. The fire hissed and sputtered as the moisture settled over it.

Hugh drew a sharp breath. “How long can you keep this up?” he whispered, indicating the fog surrounding them.

“An hour if I focus. I can’t do much else while I’m maintaining it, though.”

“Then we’ll need the others.” Hugh’s hand groped through the fog, searching for his shield on the ground.

“Go,” Paul whispered. “I’ll cover you.”

“I’m not going to leave you here alone and unprotected. Wait.” Finally Hugh’s hand grabbed the edge of his shield. He quickly strapped it to his left arm and raised that hand to his throat. “Be ready; they’ll definitely know where we are in a moment.” He lowered his head and muttered a quiet prayer, then raised it again as he felt Eldath’s will surging through him, giving him voice. He took a breath and shouted, “Michael! Tilly! We’re under attack!” He turned to Paul, who was wincing at the magically enhanced volume of Hugh’s voice. “Sorry.” Hugh returned to his normal tone. “Now drop it.”

The fog dissipated to reveal a man and two women nearly on top of them. Paul raised his staff defensively as he stepped back. Hugh finally spotted the two archers moving slowly into the open toward them. He lifted his shield to block another arrow as Paul dipped his fingers into his belt pouch, spat into his hand, and raised it into the air.

Any icy breeze whipped past Hugh as he watched a winter storm spring up in front of his eyes. He jumped back, avoiding the ice that was beginning to coat the ground. Their foes weren’t so fortunate. The man’s feet slid out from under him and he fell onto the ice, tripping up one of the women in the process. The other woman powered forward out of the storm’s perimeter, driving her sword toward Paul. Hugh tried to get closer, to get his shield in the way, but he was still close enough to the edge of the storm that his movements were sluggish.

What he did next was almost instinctual. “ _Eldath, protect him..._ ” The air shimmered around Paul as a shield of faith settled over him. He watched as the blade struck Paul and slid away, turned by Hugh’s holy armor. The woman raised her sword to strike again, then suddenly dropped it and raised a hand to her neck, where she had been struck by one of Michael’s darts. The man who’d been sprawled on the ice behind her had regained his footing, and Hugh wasted no time driving his mace into the man’s ribs, knocking him back to the ground. Beside him, he saw Tilly jump to the other woman’s back, holding a dagger to her throat. The two archers, who’d been avoiding wasting arrows in the ice, raised their bows again as the storm died down, but hesitated as they saw the predicament of their companions.

“Look around. You really think we’re worth it?” The cool steadiness of Hugh’s voice belied the pounding in his chest. “We can end this without more bloodshed.” The man on the ground shifted, and Hugh prodded him in the side with his toe, just hard enough to ascertain that the man’s armor had protected him from any broken ribs.

“Okay!” The man pushed Hugh’s foot away and struggled to sit up. “We’ll go.” Hugh reached a hand down to help him up. The man spat on it. “But we don’t need your charity.”

Hugh waited for the four to be on their way, then knelt beside the woman with the dart in her neck. She was unconscious but breathing, barely. He wrapped one hand around the base of the dart and laid the other one beside it, then set his jaw and pulled. Blood poured from the wound for just a split-second before he placed his hands over it, pouring his last bit of divine energy into the healing spell. The woman stirred, then shrank away as she became aware of her surroundings.

“It’s okay,” Hugh said, “you’re safe now. If you hurry you should be able to catch your friends.” The woman peered around cautiously as she stood, but hurried off in the direction Hugh was pointing.

As soon as she was gone, Michael grabbed the front of Hugh’s robes and looked him in the eye. “They attacked without warning or provocation. They made no demands. We had every right to strike them down where they stood.”

“As you said yourself, Eldath is a god of peace. I will not kill if it can be avoided.” Michael’s hand gripped tighter.

“Michael!” called Paul. “This isn’t about you. Let him go.”

After a few more heartbeats, Michael loosened her grip. Hugh sank to his knees, exhaustion hitting him like a wave. Paul was at his side in an instant, shooting a glare at Michael that Hugh couldn’t be entirely sure wasn’t a curse. “I’m fine,” Hugh said. “Just a lot of magic in a short time.”

Paul nodded. “Same here.”

“You’d best get your strength back, then,” Michael said quietly. “I’ll keep watch.”

Paul set out his bedroll near the embers of the fire, and Hugh followed suit, setting up as close to Paul as he dared. He’d half-expected Paul himself to confront him after the battle. The man had a temper, and some old pain somewhere in his soul, though it was hard to picture here, as Paul lay barely asleep, the moonlight playing in his light hair. Hugh suppressed the urge to run his fingers through it, instead rolling over to face away from Paul, and letting sleep take him.

  



	3. Find Familiar (1st Level Conjuration - Wizard)

Paul blinks awake to see Hugh still asleep beside him. He’s lying on his stomach, facing away from Paul, one arm pillowed under his head. As he watches Hugh’s body rise and fall with each breath, he’s only half-aware of the fact that they seem to be alone, that he should have been awakened for his watch before now. Gingerly, before he can change his mind, he reaches out and brushes a hand across Hugh’s hair, surprised at the soft texture, marvelling at the way the curls spring back from beneath his fingers...

“Hey! Are we gonna get going while it’s still morning?” Paul jerked awake to see a mass of curly red hair dangling in front of his face. “‘Bout time! You’re never the last one up.” Her expression shifted from annoyance to concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded, still half in the dream-world, trying to get his bearings. It had been a week since their fight with the bandits, four days since they’d left Hugh at the temple of Eldath in Westgate, and this was now their third day journeying along the coast, seeking... Well, he’s not entirely sure what he’s looking for. Something useful. Something that would make the last three years of journeying worthwhile. “I’m fine. You just got me in the middle of a dream.”

“Oh!” Tilly perked up again. “About Brother Hugh?”   


Paul didn’t bother trying to deny it. Since they’d parted ways in Westgate, Hugh had found his way into Paul’s dreams on a nightly basis. He was only grateful Tilly had interrupted this one when she did. 

“D’you want to go back to the city?” she suggested. “I mean, if you miss him that much...”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I want to at least get as far as the forest. There’s so much variety in this area; it’d be a shame not to take full advantage. After that, of course we’d need to head back, I’ll need library resources to help identify everything.”

“All I’m trying to say is, no one’s making you do this except you. I know you want to do your plant stuff and explore the planes, but maybe this is something else you could explore for a while.”

“Tilly, leave him be.”

“No, Michael, it’s all right.” Would he really do that? Give up his research and go settle down in Westgate? Not that it meant giving it up entirely; he had the libraries still to delve into, and there was still the country to the north that he’d yet to explore. Even if he might be gone for weeks at a time; having a home, a space to come back to,  _ someone  _ to come back to... he’d never quite considered it until a week ago, when he’d discussed his plans with Hugh.

“There’s no reason we shouldn’t take up residence in Westgate for a time,” Paul continued. “From there we can cross the sea to explore Sembia and the marshes of Cormyr, and I’ll have a place to examine my findings.”

“So you’re suggesting that we secure permanent lodgings, in an urban area, that we’ll only visit every few weeks?” said Michael.

“A city means work. A city with wilderness nearby means dangerous work, that most won’t want to do, that we’ve been doing for years. This is the most populated place we’ve been to in the past year. There are libraries, universities, mage guilds. It’s a whole different atmosphere to anything in Amn.”

Tilly looked at Michael. “Don’t you just love it when he gets excited about something?” 

“All right. Assuming we can find rooms and decent work, it might not be so bad to settle down for a bit.”

By that evening they’d reached the edge of Gulthandor Forest, and Paul had a pouch full of new flowers, herbs, and seagrasses. He examined a few in the sparks of the fire Tilly was building. He couldn’t identify them yet, of course, but at times he was able to detect a magical essence from particularly powerful items. No luck so far with his current stash, though. He approached the edge of the forest; they planned to take at least a day to explore the forest proper, but Paul was already despairing that this would turn into another dead end.

He peered through the trees, hoping that the forest would be a bit less dreary in full daylight. It was late enough in summer that most of the trees were bearing fruit or nuts, but the leaves hadn’t yet begun to turn. He watched a rabbit nibble something at the base of a tree, reassured that the forest wasn’t devoid of animal life.

The rabbit shrieked and scampered off as one of Michael’s darts skimmed its back and embedded itself in the tree. “Damn!” shouted Michael, “There goes dinner.”

“We’ve got plenty of rations still,” Paul said, not taking his eyes from the place where the rabbit had been. A large, half-eaten mushroom was growing between the tree roots. “Hello, gorgeous.” He reached down and plucked it from the ground. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m going to eat  _ that _ .” Michael glared at him from the corner of her eye.

“Just another sample to check out.” He tucked the mushroom into his pouch as they walked back over to the campsite.

They dined on cheese and flatbread and some late plums Tilly had found on a nearby tree, while a kettle hung over the fire to boil for tea.

“Hard to believe you’d want anything but this,” Michael said.

“It’s hard for me to believe, too,” Paul responded. “But circumstances change. Assuming... Oh, I almost forgot.” He plucked the mushroom from his pouch. “I haven’t had a chance to look at this yet.” He broke off a small piece of the mushroom’s cap and crushed it; the pieces clung to his fingertips.

Tilly grinned. “You and your samples.”

“Shh!” Paul was sure he’d felt movement nearby, but almost as soon as he was aware of it, it was gone.

“Are you okay?” Tilly whispered.

“There’s something nearby.” Michael jumped up and immediately drew her hands into a guard position.

As soon as he touched the mushroom he was on alert, suddenly aware of movement just on the edge of sensation. “There’s something nearby,” he whispered. Michael immediately drew her hands into a guard position. “Not here,” he added. “At least not  _ here  _ here.” He closed his eyes, spreading his awareness into the planes... There. He relaxed, reached out, then closed his hand and pulled.

The creature was a little smaller than his hand, and at first glance insect-like, but no, it was actually more like...

“Looks kind of like a pig?” Tilly wondered. “Or maybe more like a bear, with those claws. Wait!” Her eyes lit up. “Is that, like, your familiar? Wizards have those, right?” 

Paul shook his head. “I’ve tried to find a familiar before. Never had any luck. I’ve never heard of a wizard just happening across one.” He released his grip on the creature, waiting for it to scurry off or disappear, but it just crawled across his hand to his arm, its long claws tickling his palm. He raised his hand to look at it more closely. “Hey, there. And what should I call you?”

“Let me see!” Tilly stood and poked her head over Paul’s shoulder. “Wow! If it were much bigger, it could rip your head off. Hey! You could name it Ripper.”

“Tilly, that’s a terrible thing to call a creature,” Michael said, but the creature merely purred in Paul’s hand.

“He doesn’t seem to mind it.”

“So, we have a pet, now?” asked Michael.

“I don’t think so. Not exactly, at least.” Paul looked back at Ripper. “How about it? Do you have a place you stay, when I don’t need you?” Ripper curled up in Paul’s palm and disappeared, but Paul could still feel his presence nearby. He smiled. “That answers that. In the morning we’re going to head into that forest and pack up as many of those mushrooms as we can find, and then we can head back to town.”

While the mushrooms were the only thing they found that was unique, the stretch of coastline between Gulthandor Forest and Westgate was home to an assortment of known magical herbs and plants. Paul collected as many of these as he could fit in his pack, and set off to sell them to the local apothecary while Michael and Tilly sought lodging.

“Paul! We found the perfect place!” Tilly announced when they met up in the market two hours later. “It’s got two bedrooms, a little alcove off the kitchen where you can do experiments and stuff,  _ and  _ it’s right around the corner from the temple district.” She said the last in a sing-song voice which Paul ignored.

“And the rent?”

“The cost is quite reasonable,” Michael assured him. 

“So as soon as we drop our things off, you can go visit Hugh.”

“Tilly, it’s late.” The halfling’s face fell. “I’ll go by the temple in the morning.”

It was a good thought, he decided later, but knowing that Hugh was so near made the anticipation nearly intolerable. After several hours of near-sleeplessness, Paul gave up and climbed out of bed. He fetched one of the mushrooms out of his pack and sat down at the desk in the little alcove. 

He reached out with his mind until he found Ripper’s, and the creature appeared on the desk in front of him. “Hi, there. Now, since this thing helped me find you, I thought you might help me study it.” Paul drew a hand in front of him, drawing the moisture from the air around him and shaping it into a lens in front of his face. “So let’s have a look.” 

Here, magnified and in the dim candlelight, the mushroom took on a faint glow. He popped out the stem and flipped the cap over. As he ran a thumb over the gills underneath, he saw where the glow was coming from; the mushroom’s spores glowed with an almost unnatural blue light.

Paul drew a small blade from his pack and cut a slice from the mushroom, but nothing particularly revealed itself to him in cross-section. “What do you think? Any ideas?” He held the piece in front of Ripper, who sniffed it and looked at Paul, then nibbled a bit off the end. “All right, I suppose it’s worth a shot then.” Paul popped the rest of the mushroom slice in his mouth.

The world around him changed. He was still in their flat, but everything was bathed in an odd golden light. He stood and walked over to Michael and Tilly’s room, poking his head inside. They were both there, still asleep. He raised a hand in front of his face. His fingers didn’t look right, kind of fuzzy. He needed air. He exited the apartment and started down the stairs, but the disorientation persisted. He lost his balance halfway down and barely had time to shout before the world went black.

He awoke with start, on the floor back inside the flat. He should be in pain, he realized, recalling his last moments of consciousness. Not to mention probably bleeding. But the only symptom he could still feel was the disorientation. 

“Paul!” exclaimed a voice he couldn’t place at first. He turned toward the voice to see Hugh kneeling beside him. Of course, Hugh was a healer, he must have patched Paul up. He was such a good healer. And so handsome. A smile crept across Paul’s face. Wait, something wasn’t quite right. 

“How’d I get back in here?”

“What do you mean?” said Michael. “This is where we found you.”

“No, I...” He put a hand to his forehead. “I was outside, I fell down the stairs.”

“Sounds more like you fell asleep in your chair and dreamt it,” Michael replied.

“What are you doing here, then?” He looked at Hugh.

“Tilly came to the temple when she couldn’t wake you up,” Hugh replied. “What did you  _ do,  _ Paul?”

“Ate a mushroom.” Paul attempted to stand, in an attempt to regain some dignity, but the room swam in front of him and he sank back to the floor. “It wasn’t poison, though. The rabbit was fine.”

“It wasn’t poison,” Hugh agreed. “or a curse; I had to dispel magic to bring you out of it.” He pressed his lips together.

“Dispel... Shit!” Paul reached out briefly with his mind, and soon touched Ripper’s, currently relaxing in whatever pocket dimension he called home. With that worry satisfied, he tore open his pack, pulling out mushrooms one by one, the glow he’d noticed earlier gone, their faint magical aura vanished. “They’re ruined. Tilly! You were holding some, weren’t you?” He tried to stand again.

“Paul, wait.” Hugh caught him as he stumbled and settled him into the chair, then placed a hand to his forehead. After a moment, Paul’s vision cleared, and his mind stopped racing. He saw Tilly standing beside Hugh, clutching a sack of mushrooms. 

He took the sack and opened it. No glow, but he could feel the magic still there. He sighed. “These are okay.” He turned to Hugh. “Look, I’m sorry about all this. Tilly’s prone to panic at times. Can I walk you home?”

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”

Paul smiled. “Thanks to you.”

They covered the few blocks to the temple slowly and silently. Paul opened his mouth a few times to try to say something, but none of the words were quite right and he wasn’t sure if Hugh was inclined to hear them. “Goodbye, Paul,” Hugh said as they reached the temple.

“Wait. I was wondering when we can see each other. Maybe have dinner sometime?”

“Really?” Hugh’s expression wasn’t pleased. 

Paul swallowed. “I really am sorry about all this. It was my fault; I was careless. And thank you.” Hugh nodded and turned to the door again. “I-- I thought there was something here, Hugh. I mean, why did you come with us in the first place?”

“I was called to.”

“Called? You didn’t want to?”

“That’s what you can’t understand, Paul. There’s no difference for me! I just... felt that I should.”

“You  _ should.  _ But not because of me,”

In the first rays of dawn, Paul could see Hugh shiver, his breath quickening. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, looking at the ground. “Maybe.”

Paul reached out, lifted Hugh’s chin so he could see his eyes, and pressed his lips to Hugh’s. Hugh maintained the contact for a moment, then pulled away abruptly and finally turned to the door.

“Go home, Paul.”

  
  



	4. Zone of Truth (2nd Level Enchantment - Cleric)

It was nearly time for morning prayer when Hugh returned to the temple. He forced himself to concentrate on each word of the hymns and incantations that he knew so readily, yet if he hadn’t known them by rote for years, it would have been a struggle. He was grateful at least that he had the legitimate excuse of of a middle-of-the-night emergency to beg off morning chores and go back to bed.

Once there, though he should have been exhausted, his mind wouldn’t let him sleep. He kept rethinking the morning’s events: his doubt over the nature of his calling, the cold way he’d sent Paul away, but also the kiss. Paul’s lips had been soft, and cool from the night air, his skin smelling of herbs and fresh earth. Exactly how he’d imagined Paul to smell, and he blushed at the fact that he’d even considered that.

He wanted to see Paul again, certainly; the question was, was it right to? If he kept thinking about it, he’d be awake until it was night again. So instead he let himself indulge in the memory of that kiss, wondering what Paul’s tongue might feel like, slipping between Hugh’s lips, how Paul’s hands would feel on his skin. He reached a hand under the blanket, touching himself until his release finally cleared his mind enough to let him drift into sleep.

It was nearly noon before Hugh woke, but he thankfully felt refreshed. He left the dormitory to join the rest of the clergy. He still wasn’t used to ministering in such a populated area. Five other brothers and sisters assisted with the temple’s needs, along with a rotating handful of acolytes who handled much of the work that Hugh had once been responsible for in Grayston. 

Sister Tracy approached him as he entered the perimeter of the temple. “Is something troubling you?” Hugh shook his head. It was nothing that prayer couldn’t resolve, he was sure. It was merely a question of what Eldath had in mind for him. However, three days later, when he encountered Paul in the market while purchasing potion ingredients, he’d still received no guidance. 

“Oh, hey,” Paul muttered as he recognized Hugh beside him at the stall, then quickly turned away. Maybe this was for the best, then. They could go their separate ways, their relationship to each other nothing more than a poorly timed crush.

That was what his mind decided. His heart had other ideas. “Paul, can we talk?”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Should we?”

“I don’t think I explained myself well, before.”

“I kissed you and you sent me off. What’s to explain?”

“I mean, it was kind of sudden and... Look, not here.” He handed his list to the shopkeeper, who began scouring the shelves to locate Hugh’s requested supplies. “Maybe... we could grab a bite when I’m done here? My treat.” 

He let Paul choose the place, a simple noodle stand that was doing a brisk business. Hugh could understand why; the noodles looked perfectly cooked and the broth was thick and aromatic. 

“I’m sorry,” said Paul, his eyes fixed on the steaming bowl in front of him. “About the kiss. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you, without being sure it was what you wanted.”

“I never said I didn’t want it.” Paul’s head snapped up. “It was unexpected, not unappreciated.” Hugh sipped a bit of the broth. “This is certainly a step up from what they feed us at the temple.”  

“If you want to talk, then talk. But don’t toy with me.”

“Okay.” Hugh swirled his spoon in the bowl, wishing that Paul’s eyes were anywhere but on him. “I just, have had some concerns about how all this started. I don’t know if coming here with you was truly Eldath’s will.”

“Why does it matter? Don’t you get to want anything for yourself?”

“Of course I do. We’re not ascetics. We live in the world and are expected to be a part of it. But I let it cloud my judgement in a matter of faith.”

“That’s the problem with religion. It weirds people.”

“That’s not--”

“My family devoted themselves to order. Our whole village was founded on the idea that the highest goal was to live an orderly life, and structured so that that order was maintained. They didn’t worship a specific deity, just chose the scriptures and tenets that best supported that goal. Our farms grew only food and medicinal herbs. Relationships were all about building strong families. Curiosity was discouraged; exploration and magic forbidden. I lasted almost 15 years before I left.”

“Paul, I know how hard it must have been for you, to grow up like that. But that’s a cult; it’s not--”

“ _ Anything _ can be twisted, Hugh. I mean, I don’t think you’re like that,” he added quickly. “In fact, I know you’re not. I’ve seen that big stick you carry. But when you keep bringing it up, like it’s going to mean anything to me...”

“I’ve built a life around my faith, Paul. I can’t just pretend It’s not a part of me, that it doesn’t affect my decisions. And the idea that I could deceive myself about a calling, just to spend a few more days with you... it frightens me.”

“Yeah.” A million thoughts exploded behind Paul’s eyes, and Hugh could only wonder what anyone of them might be. He could only see a similar fear: of change, of connection, of being unprepared for this moment. And the realization that whatever was happening between them, they were in it together, was enough to break the spell.

“You know, when you told me how far you’ve traveled, I thought you might be running from something. I wouldn’t have guessed for how long.”

“Everyone’s running from something.”   


“I certainly hope not. At least not forever.” Hugh reached across the table to take Paul’s hand. “So what have you learned so far about those mushrooms?”

* * *

 

They didn’t plan any outings after that, but Hugh knew when Paul tended to return home in the evenings, and he would often wait in the temple gardens to greet Paul as he walked by. They would walk together for a while, sometimes along the perimeter of the city wall, sometimes to sit by the seaside until sunset washed over them.

“You know, this is another thing I could never have had, where I grew up. Us.” 

“Really?”

Paul nodded. “You know. Order. Strong families and all that.”

“I’m so sorry.” He took Paul’s hand, stroking a thumb over his knuckles, but he was also keeping an eye on a scene nearby. A man and a woman stood arguing outside a small hut, and one never knew when a quarrell might turn into something more. 

The woman held a small wooden sculpture over her head. “Get out!”

“Now, my dear, calm down; Like it or not, we do still have to work together,” the man said, his hands in front of his face. 

“Yes, and I’m sure you’re  _ beyond  _ pleased with yourself for that. That doesn’t mean I want you in my home!”

The man clearly didn’t know when to leave well enough alone, and continued to plead his case even as the woman pulled her arm back in preparation to throw the statue at him. 

“Sir, I believe you were asked to leave.”

“Who are you, the guard?”

“I could get them involved, if you like.”

“I’ve every right to be here.”

“I’m only going to say this once: Flee!”

The man looked conflicted for a moment, then strode away, seemingly against his will. Hugh never felt good about using control spells, but at times it was the best way to prevent more violence. He turned to the woman. “Are you alright?” She nodded, her breathing still heavy. “Are you safe here? Our temple is open to you if you need a place to stay.” 

“I don’t think he’ll be back.”

“Did he hurt you? Your... husband?”

She shook her head. “No, he’s not... anything, thankfully.” She started to shake, her breathing growing more rapid. 

Hugh placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “Do you need to sit down?”

She nodded, and let Hugh guide her to the bench beside the hut’s door. Paul took a seat on the ground nearby. The woman played with her hands in her lap, struggling to control her breathing. “My family runs one of the local shipping companies. We have done for generations. I handle most of the operations at this point, but I still carve these in my spare time.” She indicated the little statue she was still clutching. “Sometimes I’ll sell them at the market for a little extra coin. I met Harry there; he told me they were exquisite, some of the finest craft he’d seen, then he asked me to dinner. 

“After a few dinners, he started to spend the night. he met my parents...” Her breath hitched. “He was only after a piece of the company. Which my father signed over to him. And just like that, he lost interest. I was so bloody stupid; I should have seen it, he just... he...”

“He made you feel special,” Paul said softly.

She nodded.

“A friend of mine has contact with the thieves’ guild,” Paul continued. “There might be something they can do. A man like that probably crosses their path sooner or later. I can bring her by to speak with you if you’d like. What’s your name?”

“Stella. And I’d appreciate that; thank you.”

“Do you think Tilly’ll be able to do anything?” Hugh asked as they walked back to Paul’s flat. 

“I don’t know. But I couldn’t just do nothing!” Paul had been quieter than normal on the walk home, and now his voice wavered as he spoke. 

“Paul, are you okay?”

“He used her. She was lonely, and vulnerable, and he took advantage. It’s not okay.”

This wasn't really about Stella. Paul was projecting. “This seems personal. Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to,” he added quickly. “Just, sometimes it helps.” 

They had reached the stairs to the apartment. Paul sat on the bottom step and motioned for Hugh to sit beside him. It was still close to a minute before Paul actually spoke. “After I left home, I went to the College of Magic in Neverwinter. I had no money and no skills, but I told them I was willing to work for the opportunity to study there. They put me to work in the gardens, and I was in awe. Plants with the most extraordinary magical properties, and others that they were researching but barely understood.

“And after a few years, I met Dray. He told me how brilliant I was, and how talented; made me feel special. And I was so naive, so fucking lonely that I fell for it.” Hugh took Paul’s hand, their fingers intertwining. “I thought I loved him, and, well, I hoped he loved me, but I wasn’t his only one.

“I moved on after that. Started traveling, met Tilly and Michael. And, I mean, it wasn't like that, he didn't really  _ do  _ anything to me.” 

“He hurt you.”

Paul nodded. “And it wasn’t even about  _ what _ he did; it was about my expectations. Being in that place, with him, was the first time in my life I could look ahead and see...” 

“Possibilities.”

Paul nodded, and let Hugh put an arm across his shoulders as he rested his head on Hugh's chest. “We’re leaving in a few days. We might be gone for close to a month; I’ve got some leads to check out in eastern Cormyr, and we want to be back before winter hits.”

“Those swamps are dangerous,” Hugh muttered.

Paul wriggled free of Hugh’s arms and sat up, taking his hands and looking him in the eye. “I told you, I’m coming back.”

“Yes, you are. Because I’m coming with you.” 

“what about your work at the temple?”

“The goal of our ministry is to help those in need. Sometimes that means assisting groups like yours. If you’re headed north for research, there’s no reason I couldn’t come with you.”

Paul released Hugh’s hands and turned away. “No.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re not coming. I know that your faith is important to you, and I don’t want to get in the way of it again.”

“This is different, Paul. It’s not the reason I’m coming, it’s the reason I can. I don’t want to see you put yourself in danger.”

“There are other priests in that temple; send one of them. But if you’re coming, don’t do it because you can, or because you should. Come with me because  _ you want to. _ ”

The religious life was a simple one, both physically and emotionally. Hugh did things because they were right, because at their core they were true to the teachings of Eldath. What he felt for Paul, he had no baseline for, no experience to work with. Eldath spoke of love, of course, but as a selfless thing, the giving of oneself to another. Hugh desired to protect Paul, would lay down his life for him. But if none of that were the case, if he knew Paul would return safe no matter what, where would the truth lie. The idea of Paul being away for the better part of a month was almost unthinkable. And he had his answer.

“I want to go with you.”

  
  



	5. Alter Self (2nd level Transmutation - Wizard)

“Now if we head up this way,” Paul pointed to the map spread across the table, “that’ll take us off the main road, but the map in the library showed several footpaths running through here.”

“That takes us awfully close to the swamp though. I was thinking we’d want to give it a wide berth.”

“Not too wide. That’s a hotbed of magical activity.”

“Yes. A very deadly hotbed.”

“I’m hardly suggesting we go wading through its depths. But if we head this way,” Paul’s finger traced a path on the map, “and then turn west here, we can skirt the edge of both the swamp and the mountains.”

Hugh grabbed Paul’s hand from the map and wrapped both his hands around it, smiling at him. “If this is how you normally travel, I have to wonder how you made it this far.”

“Wouldn’t you call it ‘providence’?”

“I might. Or maybe you’ve just been lucky. So I’m glad I’m coming with you.”

“I’m quite glad of that myself.” He brought his other hand up to stroke Hugh’s cheek, then cupped it under his chin as they drew closer--

“Paul, good news!” Tilly burst through the door, a small stack of parchment rolled up her hand. “It looks like--” Her eyes shifted from Paul’s face to Hugh’s. “Oh. I didn’t know you had company.”

Paul straightened in his chair but kept his hand entwined with Hugh’s. “Hugh just came by to help finalize plans for our trip.”

Tilly nodded. “Uh huh.”

“So you were saying?” 

“Right!” She dropped her handful of papers on table and knelt on the chair opposite Hugh. “So, a partnership agreement from Bedford Shipping for one Harcourt Mudd has been submitted to the finance office, but it’s still working its way through the bureaucracy. Rhys can’t just make it disappear; that might be traceable, and besides, they could resubmit it. But if we get the right info into his file, it’ll flag it so there’s no way they can approve a business agreement.”

“Wait.” Hugh stood and moved around the table to look at the paperwork more closely. “You’re going to what, falsify a criminal record?” He looked at Paul. “I can’t condone that.”

“Nope.” Tilly smiled. “That’s the best part. The records exist. He bribed a clerk to keep them off the books.”

“So they’re what, just shoved in a cabinet somewhere?” Paul asked.

“Actually, they were.” Tilly moved aside the top sheet of parchment to reveal several criminal reports, stamped with the official seal of the City of Westgate. “Smart move. Destroying them would be a crime; this way she can pass it off as a mistake if she’s found out. Not so smart to keep them all in the same place, though.”

“So,” said Hugh, “you turn them in, and ‘by the way, pay special attention to this lot’?”

“That’s cute, but no.” Tilly hopped onto a chair to match Hugh’s height. “We need her to get these onto the right desk. If she refuses,  _ then _ we turn her in.”

“Then you’re just enabling the corruption.”

“A city this size is gonna have corruption baked in,” said Paul. You can either work with it, or get screwed over by it.”

“What a sad way to look at things.”

“You were so excited to see the world outside that little country village. Well here it is, Hugh, in all its unseemly glory.”

“I’ll see it with my own eyes, if that’s okay.” He scooped up the small pouch he’d brought with him and headed for the door. “I need to finish packing. I’ll catch you later.”

Tilly sank to a seat on her chair. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Paul started gathering up the maps. “I don’t know why I keep trying with him.”

“You like him. And considering he keeps coming back, I’d say he likes you, too.”

He wasn’t about to have this conversation with Tilly. “I need some air.”

At the bottom of the stairs Paul turned in the opposite direction of the temple district and starting walking toward the center of the city, wondering for the thousandth time what in the world he thought he was doing. He’d cast off many of the ideas he’d been raised with; they were so at odds with his very being that he’d had to. But the idea that he could form a partnership with someone whose ideals were so at odds with his own...

He’d never really argued with Dray. Dray always told him what he wanted to hear; it was only a game to him, not anything that would go anywhere. And his parents... maintained harmony. Any disagreements they might have had were kept hidden from Paul and his siblings. But two people couldn’t agree on everything. Some differences could stand, but sometimes, someone had to give in. and it would always be the person who cared more, who had more to lose. Paul wasn’t about to make himself that vulnerable again.

Paul spun on his heel in the middle of a crowd and started walking back the way he came. It was best to end it now. He had a passing thought for their mission, but the temple could always assign another priest, and if not? Well, they’d survived on their own so far.

And sure, Hugh was handsome, but so were plenty of other men. He was kind to Paul, but he was like that to everyone; it was sort of his job, after all. It didn’t matter that Paul felt more confident in Hugh’s presence than he had in years, or that his touch set Paul’s skin on fire, or that he had a heart and a vision so pure that Paul could almost believe a better world was possible--

Paul stopped and took a moment to get his bearings. He was about a block away from their apartment, where Michael and Tilly were heading down the stairs.

“Hi, Paul,” said Tilly, “We were just on our way to City Hall to take care of this situation.” She waved her stack of papers at him. 

“Don’t.” He snatched the papers from her hand. “Hugh was right; I don’t want to be part of this. I don’t want to do it this way. And, I think I’ve figured out what makes him different.

“We don’t try to hide ourselves from each other. We let each other know how we really feel. And that might make things difficult between us at times, but we’ll always know where we stand. And I think Mr. Mudd ought to know where he stands, too.”

He took the top sheet, the business agreement, and checked the address. Good, he knew where that was. He handed the rest back to Tilly. “Handle that however you like. I’ll make sure this goes away for good.”

* * *

 

“Good evening.”

“Wha--” Harry Mudd jumped, his key falling out of his hand on its way to the lock. “Wait, do I know you?”

“Not exactly. But I heard all about how you used a young woman to get a piece of her family’s business.”

“What business are you talking about? I wouldn’t even know where to start; I’m nothing but an honest laborer...” 

Paul thrust the partnership agreement into Mudd’s face. “I’ve known men like you. Nothing but talk. So now you’re going to stop talking, and I’ll tell you what’s going to happen.” He conjured a drop of flame onto his fingertip. “You are going to take this document to Stella’s father, you’re going to tell him you’re backing out of the deal, and you’re going to destroy it. And then you’ll never speak to either of them again.”

“And why exactly would I do that?”

Paul twisted his hand, and the flame at his fingertips transformed into a fireball that filled his hand. “Because you don’t want to see what I’d like to do with this.”

“All right, all right, give that here.” Mudd snatched the parchment away. “I’ll go see him right now.”

Paul closed his hand, extinguishing the fireball, then placed it on Mudd’s shoulder. “No. We’ll both go.”

Paul waited outside the door while the other men spoke, using a listening spell to ensure Mudd was doing what he was told. Eventually, Mudd exited the house and looked Paul in the eye as he tore up the agreement and let the scraps fall to the pebbled ground. “You’ll pay for this, wizard.”

Paul waited until Mudd was out of site, then started walking home. No, not home. He needed to see Hugh. He picked up his pace and was nearly running by the time he reached the temple. Hugh was kneeling in silent prayer when he entered. Paul knelt beside him. “Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?”

Hugh got to his feet, slowly. “Follow me.” He followed Hugh into a little alcove, not completely private but with a wall shielding them from the sanctuary. “You want me to stay behind, don’t you.” 

“Not a chance.”

“Wha--?”

“I thought I did.” He took Hugh’s hands in his, and held them to his heart. “For a moment, I thought it would be better that way. We’re coming at the world from opposite directions, and I was scared of what those differences might mean, that maybe I would lose myself.”

“Well, I could have told you you’re far too stubborn for that.”

Paul chuckled. “Maybe. But maybe you’re right, and we don’t need to live in the margins, just tolerating whatever bullshit the world throws at us. Maybe we can make a few things better on our own.”

“That’s all I try to do, all anyone can do; try to have just one positive impact on a life when we can.”

“I know, and you  _ keep on  _ trying, and that’s important, and you’re amazing for it.” He leaned toward Hugh, then stopped. They were still in a place of worship, and while that didn’t mean anything to Paul, he knew that Hugh might... His train of thought was interrupted by Hugh’s lips against his, and he brought his hands to the back of Hugh’s head, his stomach tightening as he pulled him close.

Hugh’s hands drifted down to Paul’s waist and rested there for a blissful moment, finally releasing him as Hugh drew away from the kiss. He was grinning from ear to ear, almost unconsciously. “I forgot where we were for a minute.”

Paul didn’t move his hands. “Well, tomorrow we’ll be on the road.” He kept his voice low. “We picked up a couple of tents, since we’ll have an extra back to carry them. Hope that’s all right.”

“That’ll be fine.” Hugh peeled Paul’s hands from his neck and let them drop. “You should go, so we can both get some sleep before we head out. And before you get me in trouble.”

“You started it.”

“Hush.” Hugh laughed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

* * *

 

They had more than one reason to appreciate the tents; autumn had fully set in on the north side of the sea, and the ground was often covered in frost when they awoke. Paul was definitely grateful to have that extra bit of fabric between him and the nighttime chill, almost as much as he was to have another warm body beside his.

Hugh was still asleep when he awoke, and he couldn’t yet see the narrow beam of sunlight peeking through the tent flap, signaling that the frost would soon burn away. So he called Ripper to him. Paul had found two types of fungi he’d never seen before: a strange variety of morel, and a bright yellow mold that clung to some of the tree trunks. The little creature seemed to have an affinity to these, but never showed much reaction to the herbs and flowers Paul had traditionally worked with. 

He’d learned his lesson about consuming his samples, at least without further study of their magical properties. But if he could find a better way to communicate with Ripper, maybe they could work together. He drew a vial of the mold out of his pack. There was definitely something special about this one; he could sense its magical aura, and Ripper seemed particularly drawn to it.

“Morning.” Hugh rolled over to lay an arm across Paul’s chest, but recoiled a bit when he noticed Ripper resting in Paul’s hand. “What’s that?’

Paul felt the blood rising to his face. “It’s, ah, my familiar.”

“Well that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I wouldn’t mind waking up to find you playing with your familiar.” Hugh smirked and ducked away.

“You’re terrible.” Paul raised his hand in front of his face, preparing to dismiss Ripper.

“But really,  _ what _ is it,” said Hugh, before he had a chance to. “Isn’t a wizard’s familiar supposed to be an animal of some kind?”

Paul nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like him before. Wasn’t able to turn up anything at the library, either. I found him, or maybe he found me, just after we discovered those mushrooms in Gulthandor. You know the ones I’m talking about?”

“The definitely non-poisonous mushrooms that knocked you unconscious? Yeah, I remember those.”

“So I think Ripper here is connected to them. He was interested in those weird black morels we found, and he’s really excited about this.” Paul held up the vial of mold. “So I...” He paused and held a finger to his lips as he heard leaves crunching outside. The paths up here were little travelled, and it was probably just Michael and Tilly preparing to start the fire for breakfast, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He pulled the tent flap aside, just a fraction. Nothing. He poked his head through, still nothing. He sighed and stepped out. 

He heard the crack of a fist hitting his temple almost before he felt it, and his vision clouded. The glass vial shattered in his hand as he focused all his attention on maintaining his balance, and he felt the shards dig into his palm. He heard Hugh beside him, yelling something he couldn’t make out. He blinked a few times to see a man facing him, his fist winding up for another swing.

Then he blinked again and he was in that same gold-tinged facsimile of the world that he’d found himself when he ate that bit of mushroom a few weeks ago, though the memories from that previous incident helped him keep his head about him now. He looked around to see four men crowded around Hugh, armed only with his mace and no shield. He didn’t see Michael or Tilly at all; Hugh was alone. 

He looked at Ripper, still perched on his left hand. “Take me back, damnit! Take me back!” 

  
  
  
  



	6. Spirit Guardians (3rd Level Conjuration - Cleric)

“Paul!” Hugh barely had time to grab his weapon and exit the tent, half-dressed, before he saw Paul vanish in front of him. He didn’t have time to do much more than shout, though; four men surrounded him, arranged in a semicircle around the tent’s opening. He muttered a spell, paralyzing the two nearest him, and thankfully the commotion had roused Michael and Tilly, allowing him to slip into the open while the other two were distracted.

“Tilly, bind them!” He cast a Sanctuary around her and indicated the paralyzed men, then turned his attention to the others. Michael was a blur, fighting hand to hand, her limbs both weapon and shield. The man Tilly had been fighting, the one who’d been standing over Paul, looked around frantically as yet another target disappeared in front of him. Hugh swung his mace into the man’s leg and heard bones crack as he made solid contact, but couldn’t quite avoid one last strike from the man’s weapon as he fell to the ground.

Hugh gasped as the axe blade hit his shoulder. It was a glancing hit, luckily, but the blade was sharp and the iron heavy. The pain was enough to drive him to the ground, dizzy and panting. He watched for a moment as the blood ran down his arm before looking around to try to get his bearings. Tilly had finished tying up the two paralyzed men just as one began to stir, and Michael managed to knock out her opponent with a clever blow to the neck. Then Hugh heard a voice behind him, Paul’s. “No! Don’t--” followed by retching.

It was enough to break through the shock. Hugh placed a hand on his wound, squeezing his eyes shut as he prayed. They had been fortunate to dispatch their foes so quickly, and with no loss of life. Paul had returned, though where he’d been was another question. And Hugh’s own injury appeared to be the worst they suffered. Eldath had smiled on them today. He was able to stop the blood loss quickly enough, though he winced as the shoulder joint worked its way back into place. As soon as he felt well enough to stand he hurried to Paul’s side. “Paul, it’s me.”

“No!” Paul flailed his arms, not quite striking Hugh. “Stay back!”

Hugh was reminded of Paul’s disorientation the night he’d returned to Westgate. This wasn’t quite the same, though. When he awoke then, he’d seemed intoxicated. Now he was  _ terrified. _ So despite the warning, Hugh crept close again. “Paul,  _ it's me,”  _ he repeated. “I'm here.”

Paul’s mouth fell open, glassy eyes silently pleading as they met Hugh’s, then he fell into Hugh’s arms, trembling. “Paul,” Hugh said gently, “what happened?”

“Everything changed,” he panted, “like before. But it was different. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t get back. And it was dark, and there were, you were... I couldn’t get back!”

“It’s okay.” Hugh held Paul’s sobbing form close. “You don’t need to tell me now. I’m right here. I’m right here.” He looked up from Paul’s head buried in his chest to see Michael interrogating one of the men, all of whom had been bound while he was with Paul.

“You know, we could just leave you here. Now,  _ who sent you? _ ” Michael’s hand caressed the man’s throat menacingly. 

“Doesn’t matter. He scampered as soon as the fighting started. We was supposed to just grab the wizard and get out.”

“He’s nearby, then.” She released the man, pushing away a bit harder than she needed to, and knelt beside Hugh and Paul, motioning for Tilly to join them. “We need to find him. If Tilly can join me, it will be easier. Will you be okay here on your own?”

Hugh looked at Paul, whose breathing was finally beginning to slow. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“As long as Tilly’s knots hold, then,” said Hugh.

“Ha!” Tilly barked. “I think I’m insulted. They’re not going anywhere.”

“Paul, are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Michael asked. 

“I’ll look after him,” Hugh reassured her. “Go. And try to keep him alive,” he added as they hurried off.

The four mercenaries looked around sullenly and grumbled to themselves, but made no attempt to escape. Still, Hugh felt exposed sitting in the middle of the camp under their gaze. “Paul, can you walk?” he whispered.

Paul nodded, and followed Hugh to the far side of Michael and Tilly’s tent, out of view of the men. They sat on the ground and Paul pulled Hugh’s hand to his face, clinging to it like a raft at sea.

“You’re still frightened.” Paul nodded, though it wasn’t a question; the fear, though it had quieted somewhat, still enveloped him. “I can help, if you’d like.” Another nod, more rapid this time. Hugh held Paul’s face in both hands and brought their foreheads together, sending his energy into Paul, coaxing the man he knew to come out. Paul’s breathing continued to slow; the pulse in his neck stopped racing, his spirit calm.

“It wasn’t like that, the last time,” Paul said.

Hugh opened his eyes. “What last time?”

“The night after we came back to Westgate.”

“That’s what happened?”

“I don’t know! I--”

Paul was interrupted by another voice approaching to the south. “You call yourself explorers, and yet this is how you treat an innocent traveler? I’d take you straight to the authorities, if there were any around here.”

“Come off your bullshit, Mudd,” said one of the mercenaries. “You said we could take ‘em. That there was four of them and four of us and we was bigger.”

Mudd scowled at the man. “Would you  _ shut up _ ?”

Hugh’s face was steel as he approached Mudd. “All this, just for what? Revenge? And what were you going to do with him once you had him?”

“Make sure he never interfered with my business again. And what do you think you’re going to do with me. I know you’re too soft to kill me, and like I said, we’re miles from anywhere.”

Hugh turned away. Mudd was right. Their options at this point were to kill him, or let him go, and neither was conscionable.  He knelt to heal the man’s leg he’d broken; it was at least something he could do while he considered his options. There was the last resort of an enchantment spell, but he didn’t know anything strong enough to last them all the way back to the city, and keeping Mudd bound the whole way was hardly an attractive option either. 

“It would seem we’ve no quarrel with you,” he said to the mercenaries, “so long as you leave peacefully. Would you agree?” The men glanced at one another, then nodded. “Good. Tilly, let them go.” He turned back to Mudd. It seemed their only option would be to drag him back to town with them. Maybe they could keep him under a sleep spell, and Paul could levitate...

“Hey, what is it?” Paul, still sitting on the ground, whispered to Ripper, who was once again perched on his hand. The creature’s head was turned toward Mudd, hissing and growling. Then Ripper vanished, and reappeared on Mudd’s shoulder, and then they were both gone.

Hugh turned his gaze back to Paul and swallowed. “Did you do that?”

Paul shook his head. “No. But I think we may have found the common variable.”

Tilly poked at the remains of last night’s fire, attempting to coax it back to life, as the rest of them stared. “What?” she barked upon noticing. “None of us has had breakfast yet and I’m sure we could all use a cup of tea.” 

Hugh, remembering that he was still shirtless, ducked into the tent to grab one. By the time he came back out, Ripper had reappeared on Paul’s hand. “Get that thing out of here,” he demanded.

“Wait.” Paul turned to Ripper. “Where is he?” He paused, then nodded. “It looks like an island. An inhabited one; one of the Moonshaes if I’m not mistaken. Wherever he ended up, it’s far away.” He addressed Ripper once more. “Don’t do that again.” The creature squirmed and whined, but disappeared.

Michael was the first to speak. “What just happened?”

“And start at the beginning,” added Hugh.

Paul pressed his lips together. “Are you angry?”

Hugh took his hand. “I’m worried. There’s so much going on here that I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know if I understand it all, either.”

“Then just start at the beginning.” 

“The first time, well, like I said, I wasn’t thinking. I ate that bit of mushroom, then the room changed. The light changed; everything got... brighter, I guess? And the air felt close, like I couldn’t breathe, so I went outside, and then I started feeling dizzy, and I fell. I... I did fall down the stairs; it was the last thing I remembered before you woke me up.”

“Were there any other times?”

Paul shook his head. “Just today. It was the same, at first, with the yellow light, and I could still see everything that was happening; I saw you facing those men alone, and I tried to come back, but I didn’t know how. Then it got dark. There were shadows everywhere, and I heard whispers, and I didn’t know where I was, I couldn’t see the camp anymore and... I don’t want to talk about it.”

Hugh could feel the panic rising in Paul as he spoke. Wherever Paul had been, the fear seemed almost a tangible part of it. He squeezed Paul’s hand a little harder. “That’s okay. That’s enough.” 

“But we still don’t know  _ how _ it happened,” said Michael.

Paul rubbed his fingers against his palm. “The vial. With the mold. It broke in my hand.” He held his hand out in front of him. Dark red slashes cut across the palm.

“You’ve still got glass stuck in there!” How had Paul not noticed? How had  _ he  _ not noticed? Though they’d had bigger concerns, he supposed. “And the mold must have got into your blood. And before it happened when you ingested that mushroom.”

“And Ripper was there both times! And he somehow banished Mudd!” Paul jumped up. 

“So Ripper’s the key to finding her?” Michael was more excited than Hugh had ever seen her.

“We’re getting close!” Paul exclaimed. “I know it! We just need to get back to the city, so I can study...”

“First, you need breakfast.” Hugh took a mug of tea Tilly was offering and placed it in Paul’s uninjured hand. “And I still need to take a look at that hand.”

“So, what exactly is Michael’s interest in all of this?” Hugh asked later. Tilly and Michael were packing up the camp, and he was trying to distract Paul while he plucked shards of glass out of his palm. “Who was she talking about?” 

“Her teacher, Phillippa, was taken from her, shortly before she met Tilly and me. Michael is sure she’s still alive; she’s counting on my research to help find her. I think she-- Ow!”

“Sorry.” Hugh brushed his thumb across Paul’s palm. “I think that’s all of it. I’ll just get you healed up.” He raised Paul’s hand to his lips and let healing energy flow into him until the cuts were closed and the redness gone from Paul’s skin. Then he leaned in closer to kiss Paul’s lips, wincing as Paul placed his hands on Hugh’s shoulders.

Paul broke from the kiss and moved Hugh’s shirt aside to examine the wound. “You missed a spot. That’s gonna leave a scar. Unless you want to let me kiss this one better?” he added playfully.

Hugh lifted Paul’s hand from his shoulder. “I didn’t have time to heal it all the way; I had to make sure you were all right.” The events of the morning washed over him as he spoke, and he realized something. “I was so scared, before, when you vanished,” he said, almost at a whisper. “I thought I lost you.” And he was almost as scared in this moment, but if he was going to say this, it might as well be now. “I don’t want to lose you. I love you.”

Paul pulled him back into the kiss, and he didn’t even have to say the words; the feeling rested around Hugh’s shoulders like a cloak. “I love you, too.”

“That’s beautiful,” said Michael, and despite the sarcasm in her tone she couldn’t quite hide her smile. “But we didn’t pack up this camp just to spend tonight in the same place again.”

Silently, Hugh took the armor she was handing him and began to strap it on, sure that he could hear the beating of his heart against the steel.

  
  
  



	7. Dream (5th Level Illusion - Wizard)

Soon after their return to Westgate, frost and snow brought Paul’s herb gathering business to a temporary halt. He took up work tending plants in one of the local greenhouses for coin, where his way with growing things made them more profitable than they’d been in years. More importantly, it took up little of his day, leaving him plenty of time to spend in the library. He often found himself studying long past dark; now that he was so close to a breakthrough he found it hard to stop until the building closed.

Some evenings Hugh would join him, reading a book of his own while Paul occasionally bounced ideas off of him. Other times he’d be waiting at the flat when Paul returned so they could share a late meal. Frequently during these meals Hugh ate with a concerned look on his face, until one night he finally spoke up. “Aren’t you ever going to take a day for yourself?”

“What do you mean? This is what I want to be doing.”

“What I meant,” Hugh took a deep breath and placed a hand on Paul’s, “was a day for us. I feel like I’ve barely gotten to spend time just with you.”

“Oh.” Paul was satisfied just with Hugh’s presence. It was hard for him to consider it any other way. And Hugh was still so guarded against admitting his own wants... “I’m sorry. The weather’s not exactly conducive to walks along the docks, though. Did you have something in mind?”

“There’s a little gallery that just opened up near the square. We could dip our toes into the art world.”

“Two gentlemen of means, just looking to furnish our grand, stately home.”

“I doubt it’s prohibitively expensive; it’s just local artists. Either way, it’ll be nice just to look around.

Paul didn’t have much in the way of spare coin, but the flat could use a bit of color, and it was hard to say no to a full day with Hugh, even if it wasn’t otherwise what he’d prefer. “When can you go?”

“I’m free day after tomorrow.”

“I should be finished at the greenhouse before midday. I’ll come find you then.”

* * *

 

The gallery was small, but fortunately mostly deserted when they arrived. Hugh was right that many of the pieces weren’t expensive, but they didn’t seem to betray any particular skill. Of course, Paul was a scholar of science, not the arts, and there were quite a few that caught Hugh’s eye.

“I’m not sure I’d say there’s anything _special_ about any of it,” Hugh explained. “I’m just fascinated by the very _idea_ of art. There’s so much beauty in the world, and for some reason, across races and cultures, people have decided they need to capture that, preserve it in some way.”

“Because it never lasts.”

Hugh placed a hand on Paul’s cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “Some things do.”

Paul leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Hugh’s lips. He hoped it could be true, that Hugh’s face, his presence, could be eternal. “So it’s not about the pictures. It’s the people that made them.”

“Exactly!” Hugh walked from painting to painting. “What was so important about this rosebush, this cottage, this... oh, this one’s actually _very_ interesting.”

The picture Hugh was examining displayed the edge of a lake beside a forest, a deer poking its head through the trees, the entire scene bathed in an eerie golden light. The same light he’d seen months ago when he ate that mushroom. The first time he... _traveled._ He examined the card beside the painting. “Holiday in the Feywild” read the title. He reached down and found Hugh’s hand as he continued to stare at the painting.

“Paul, are you okay?”

“I--” he tried to find the words to explain it, but all he could come up with was, “I need to have this.” Paul looked at the card again, this time for the price. He exhaled. He had it, technically, but not if he wanted to eat for the rest of the month.

“Ooh, that is a bit steep,” Hugh said as he noticed where Paul was looking. “Shame. It really is beautiful.”

“That’s not all.” Paul took Hugh’s hand and looked straight into his eyes. “I’ve been there. It’s where I was sent, the first time. Not... that place, but the light, the atmosphere, it’s all the same. I was in the Feywild.”

“Not physically, though.”

“I... I don’t know.”

“What about the second time? In the woods.”

“I don’t know! But this... it’s _something_. I just wish I knew what.”

Hugh waved the attendant over to them, and started counting coins from his purse. Paul placed his hands over Hugh’s. “Hugh, don’t. It’s too much.”

“I have coin from our travels, I get a stipend from the temple, and I have very little to spend it on. You need answers, and this might help you get them. Let me buy it for you.”

Paul saw no sign in Hugh’s eyes that he was going to budge, so he removed his hands and let Hugh finish paying. “Do you know how we could get in touch with the artist?” he asked, once he had the painting under his arm.

“We wouldn’t provide that information, I’m afraid, sir.”

“If I left my address, could you inform them I’d like to speak with them?” Paul inquired. “Professionally, of course.”

The attendant nodded, and made a note of Paul’s name and address. “He’s not often there during the day,” Hugh added, “but I can be found in the Temple of Eldath.”

Paul took the wrapped painting and they left the gallery.

As soon as they returned to the apartment, Paul carefully leaned the painting against the wall, then took Hugh’s face in his hands. The thought that Hugh had just _done that_ , for him, because he _wanted_ to... It was almost too much to take in. “Thank you,” he breathed, then pressed his mouth to Hugh’s, running his tongue across Hugh’s lips before diving in.

Never in his life (well, once, but that had been a lie) had Paul found himself truly _wanting_ someone, with the whole of his being and not just physically. Though, he realized as he lifted Hugh’s shirt over his head, his fingers tracing every muscle along the way, very, very much physically as well.

“Should we move to the bedroom?” Hugh asked in a low voice.

Paul only nodded.

* * *

 

They lay there for a while afterward, Hugh’s head on Paul’s shoulder, his fingers playing in the hairs on Paul’s belly. Through his dazed happiness, he heard the creak of the outside door. “Someone’s home. We should get up.”

“Mmm mm,” Hugh protested, but he sat up, dragging a kiss across Paul’s lips on the way. “Then you need to take a day off more often.”

Paul stood and slipped back into his discarded robes, then stepped out of the bedroom to see Michael sitting at the table. “Nice to see you have plenty of time on your hands,” she muttered, then launched Hugh’s shirt at him as he appeared behind Paul.

“That’s not fair,” countered Hugh. “This is the first time he’s taken for himself in weeks.”

“How do I know that? I don’t have a clue what you’re doing day-to-day.I thought you had a breakthrough. That you were almost there. And since then, nothing. But I’m _thrilled_ you two are enjoying yourselves!”

“Michael.” Paul frowned. She rarely broke from her carefully honed stoicism; to see it concerned him. He placed a hand on her shoulder gently, then more firmly when she didn’t recoil from the touch.

“I miss her so much. And seeing... I mean, it’s not your fault. It just hurts.”

“You loved her.” Hugh expressed what Paul had long suspected but never quite had the nerve to say out loud. Michael nodded.

“It’s not going to happen all at once,” said Paul. “And to be honest, I’m not sure what more I’m going to get out of the library here.”

“Maybe it’s time to move on, then.” She looked pointedly at Hugh.

“That’s not what I meant. We’re attempting things no one has done before. At some point, the only way to move forward is to do them. And I did learn one thing today.” He took the painting from against the wall, unwrapped it, and laid it across the table. “I’ve traveled to other planes. With help from Ripper, and a little actual planning, I suspect we can do it safely. I still need to experiment a bit, and, well, we still don’t really know _where_ we need to go, but... we’re going to do this.

“First I need to see where Ripper can take us, on our own plane. He turned to Hugh. “Where would you want to go, if you could go anywhere?”

“Home.” He didn’t even hesitate. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my family. We write, but... it’s not the same. Besides,” he smiled, “I’d like you to meet them.”

“Do you think they’d mind a couple of dinner guests, next time you’re free?”

“Just like that?”

“It’ll be a good start.”

* * *

 

Four days later, the two men stood just outside the city gates, and Paul called Ripper to his outstretched hand. “Hey, we’d, ah, we’d like to go somewhere?” The little creature purred its assent. “If he tells you where we’re going, can you take us?” Another purr. “Okay, he’s ready.” Paul nodded to Hugh.

“Okay, the farm is about three and a half miles east of Grayston, uh, that’s the village where we first met...” Paul imagined the village for Ripper’s benefit, as well as picturing more generally where it lay on the continent. “There’s a house there, wood, with a gray brick foundation. It’s got a blue fence around it, I painted that one summer, and beyond that are the fields; though there’ll be nothing growing right now. Oh, and there are a handful of apple trees to the right of the house.”

“Is that enough?” Paul asked Ripper. He lifted his hand in front of him, muttered an incantation, and watched as a portal materialized in front of them, its surface like milky glass.

“We can’t see where we’re going?”

“It doesn’t work like that. Do you trust me?”

Hugh nodded, and took Paul’s hand, and they stepped through.

They emerged outside of a wooden house, surrounded by a blue fence, with several apple trees nearby. Paul turned to Hugh. “Is this it?

Hugh smiled. “This is it. We made it. Are you ready?”

“No,” Paul admitted. “Not because I don’t want to,” he added quickly. “But it’s such a big step.”

“Oh.”

“Wait. That’s not what I meant either. I’m just.. having one of those I-can’t-believe-this-is-real moments.”

“It’s real, Paul.” Hugh placed a hand on Paul’s cheek and kissed him. “I’m real. _We’re_ real. Come on.” He started walking, leading Paul to the house.

A woman answered the door, the very image of Hugh but with some gray working its way through her hair, and immediately threw her arms around Hugh. “Hi, Mama,” he mumbled.

“What are you doing here, baby?”

He leaned out of the embrace to answer. “I just had an opportunity to visit, so I did. And I wanted you to meet someone.”

She turned to Paul. “Is this him?”

“This is Paul. Paul, this is my mother, Iris.”

Iris pulled Paul into the same strong hug she’d just given Hugh. “It’s so good to meet you. Hugh’s written us so much about you.”

“He... really?”

She laughed. “Yes, really. And don’t worry, I won’t embarrass either of you with direct quotations. Now come inside, Hugh, you have to meet your nephew.”

“What?” Hugh stared past her, frowning. “Already?”

“Don’t you let Lana hear you say that; she was despairing that he’d never come. But it’s been nearly three weeks now.” Iris turned and led them through the front room into the kitchen, where a blond woman was chopping vegetables at the counter. “Lucia, we’ve got two more for dinner.”

“Hon, you know I always make plent-- Hugh!” SheT set down her knife and raced over to him, pulling him close. “It’s been ages!”

“Love you too, mom.”

“Oh, and you must be Paul.” She walked over to him. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

“Wait.” Paul stepped back. “Who are... I’m confused.”

Hugh smiled. “She’s my mom.”

“How--”

“I was raising Hugh on my own,” said Iris, “and Lucia needed someone to help on the farm after her husband died.” She took Lucia’s hand “And then it became more than a job; it became a partnership, a family.”

“You’re such a sap.” Lucia kissed Iris on the cheek and returned to her cutting board. “Anyway, Tristan and Adele are outside working, and...”

“Hugh!” called a voice from the living room. “Don’t think i don’t hear you out there. Get over here and say hello to Henry, now that he’s finished eating.” Hugh leaned over to take the infant from his sister’s arms, lifting him carefully and rubbing a hand across the top of his head.

“You’re doing well?” The words were directed toward his sister, but his eyes were riveted on Henry’s face, as much as Paul’s were.

“I am. We are.” She stood and put an arm around Hugh, stroking her son’s hair as Hugh rocked him. “I can’t believe you’re here; I haven’t seen you since the wedding.”

“Well, you can thank Paul for that. He’d got a bit of a knack for teleportation.”

Paul discussed his research over dinner, along with countless other things. It was a far cry from meals with his own family, where there was little in the way of conversation, simply because there was so little to talk about. Though could he really call his mother and father, his siblings, a family anymore? What had Iris said? They _became_ a family. Lana was no less Hugh’s sister just because they weren’t related by blood, nor did that fact diminish the love and pride in Hugh’s eyes when he looked at Henry.

He’d been traveling so long, trying to learn how to go anywhere he desired, but here, for the first time, he no longer felt the need. He squeezed Hugh’s hand under the table. “Remember when I said everyone was running from something?” he whispered. “Maybe you were right. Maybe I was running toward something. And I think I’ve found it.”

* * *

 

“They absolutely love you,” Hugh said as they approached Paul’s flat later that evening.

“It’s late. Stay the night?” Paul answered, planting a kiss just above Hugh’s collarbone. “I want you close to me.”

“I did tell Brother Pryce I’d be out late visiting family, so I guess they won’t be expecting me too early.” He pressed his lips to Paul’s. “Okay.”

Paul awoke the next morning to see sunlight already streaming through the tiny window in his room. He dressed and slipped out of the bedroom to find Hugh already slicing bread for breakfast. He was about to cross over to him when he heard a knock on the door.

He opened it find an impossibly tall, hooded figure standing before him. The stranger removed his hood, revealing a face that was neither human, nor elven, nor any race he’d encountered before. “My name is Saru. I was told you wished to speak with me.”


	8. Legend Lore (5th Level Divination - Wizard and Cleric)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild cw for blood

Hugh set down the knife and brushed the crumbs from his hands before joining Paul at the door. “You’re the artist.” He placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder to guide him from the doorway. “Please come in.”

“First, tell me what you want. I assume you’re not looking to commission me.”

“I was quite taken with your painting,” Paul said. “I want to know more of what inspired it.”

“I’d have thought the title rather self-explanatory.”

“What do you know of the Feywild?” The task of information gathering didn’t normally fall to Paul; in fact, he was used to being the guarded one.

“Why do you ask?” Saru’s eyes focused on Paul, his thin lips frowning, and Paul felt even smaller than he had against the man’s towering form. 

“I’ve traveled there. At least I think my spirit has. I’ve visited other planes and I don’t know how it happened; didn’t even realize that’s what it was until I saw that.” He indicated the painting. “I hoped you might provide some insight.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Excuse me.” Saru slipped through the door to join them inside. 

“Please, sit down.” Hugh indicated the table. “We were about to have breakfast; can I get you anything?”

“That won’t be necessary. I don’t intend to stay long.” Saru did take a seat though, and Hugh and Paul joined him at the table. “What can you tell me of your experience”

“Well, when it happened the first time, I didn’t even realize it. I was still in this room as far as I could tell, but the light looked like that,” he pointed to the painting again, “and the air felt wrong. Close, almost like drowning.” Saru nodded for him to continue. “So I went outside, and got dizzy and fell. But in fact, it seems my body never left this spot.”

“He was unconscious,” added Hugh. “We couldn’t wake him until I thought to dispel magic.”

“If your spirit was separated from your body, that makes sense,” said Saru. “But you said ‘the first time’.”

“The second time,” Paul shuddered, his breath coming in struggling gasps. Hugh reached over and took his hand. “The second time, I, I...”

“You don’t have to.” Hugh raised his other hand to Paul’s cheek. “It’s okay. You’re not there now. You’re here, with me.” Paul leaned forward, into Hugh’s arms. “The second time, he disappeared entirely. And wherever he ended up, it terrified him. You can see how much just the memory is affecting him even now.”

“There are dark places in the Feywild as well, much as in your world. For those not accustomed to it, the fear can be... overwhelming.”

Paul looked up, squeezing Hugh’s hand until his breathing began to slow. “There were shadows, whispers. Nothing... physical, and yet my mind and body were taken over. I was sure I was going to die.” Saru nodded. “What did you mean by ‘our world’?”

“I was born to the Fey. Its beauty was once my home.”

“Why did you come here?”

“Not by choice. I was exiled to this plane nearly twenty years ago.”

“Why?”

“Paul!” Hugh glanced at him, as he often did when Paul’s curiosity overwhelmed his sense of tact..

“I’m not ashamed of my past; I’ve nothing to hide. My beliefs and goals simply evolved beyond those I was raised with.”

Paul nodded; it was an experience he understood well. “But to be driven from the plane entirely...”

“It was feared that my presence would corrupt the Feywild, creating more darkness like you saw. I’ve met others like me, passing through the city; it’s not an uncommon story. Here, my people reason, there is little for us to corrupt. It’s funny, where I come from, it’s the land itself that is twisted; here, it seems, corruption does in fact stem from the people.”

“I can’t find quarrel with that,” said Paul. “Though many of us still fight it in whatever way we can.”

“Of course. But anyone can see that the struggle is constant. I’m sure you wanted more from me, however, than personal history.”

Paul shifted, pulling a leg up onto the chair beneath him. “I have so many questions, and I don’t want to waste your time with ones I need to answer for myself. It seems foolish, now, but I suppose much of what I need is identification.” He waved a hand in front of him and Ripper appeared on the table between them. “Do you know what this is?

Saru placed his own hand on the table, palm up. “May I?” Paul nodded, and Ripper crawled over. Saru lifted his hand close to his face, studying Ripper from multiple angles. “No, I’ve not encountered a creature like this before.”

Paul frowned. “Well, that’s one part of how I was able to travel. There are other things that seem to be connected.” He stood and turned to the little alcove that he’d set up as a workspace, grabbing a box from a shelf above the desk and bringing it to the table. Inside were a number of jars and vials; he took out one containing a sample of the blue-gilled mushroom and displayed it to Saru. “Is this something that grows in your world?”

Saru took the jar and examined the dried fungus. “It is. I didn’t know they could grow here; although in places where the veil is thin, our worlds can encroach on one another.”

Paul handed over a sample of the yellow mold next. Saru nodded as he peered into the vial. “Yes, this as well. It often grows on trees in the north.”

“Just where we found it.” 

“Is that where you crossed over?”

He took Hugh’s hand again. “Yes, across the sea. In the forest west of the Thunderpeaks.”

Saru nodded. “Our people avoid that area, with good reason. Here, much of the danger stays confined to the swamps, but in the Feywild it leaked out long ago, infecting the surrounding land. I can only assume the sea has kept it from spreading this far.”

“I’ve got one more.” Paul held up the black morel.

Saru shook his head. “I don’t recognize it.”

“Then I guess you’ll remain a mystery for now.” He tucked the morel back in the box. “Thank you,” he said to Saru. “I think I’ve learned what I need to. You, ah... Look you didn’t have to do this. I could-- let me get my purse.”

Saru raised a hand. “That’s not necessary. I don’t often have the opportunity to speak of my home.”

Hugh placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder as the door closed behind Saru. “I’m sorry that didn’t get more answers for you.”

“It’s as much as I could have hoped for. I know so much more than I did before.” He cupped Hugh’s face in his hands. “I mean, I’ll need to experiment a bit more, but I have a direction for it now. Care to join me?”

Hugh lifted Paul’s hands away, but he continued to hold them in from of him, and he was smiling. “I do need to get back to the temple today; I’m sorry.”

“This evening, then? Or tomorrow? I want you with me. I mean, I always want you with me, but specifically for this. I want you to see what I’ve seen.” 

Hugh’s breath caught for a moment before he finally spoke. “And I don’t want you to go off and do anything stupid without me. So please do wait for me. I’ll make time as soon as I can.” Paul leaned in to kiss him goodbye before Hugh disappeared out the door.

In the end it was three more days before Hugh was able to get free for an afternoon. Michael and Paul met him outside the temple.

Hugh looked between them. “You’re coming, too?” he said to Michael.

“Someone needs to observe,” said Paul.

“And this is my mission as much as it is anyone’s,” added Michael.

“And I’ll do what I can to help you both. What exactly is the plan?” “We need to test how different substances affect the way I travel. Or if there’s a difference between ingestion, or, well, having it in my blood, like with the mold. And I need to know if it’s possible to actually bring someone with me. Which is where you come in.”

“Where are we going, then?” A smile spread across Hugh’s face, his eyes studying Paul’s as if the answer didn’t matter.

“Outside of the city, for starters. And from there, I can only guess.” He placed a hand on Hugh’s arm. “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” Hugh admitted. “But I trust you. And I suppose we should know as much about what we’re getting into as we can.”

Paul led the other two to the lightly forested area just south of town. Before winter fully settled in, he and Hugh would sometimes walk here in the evenings, ostensibly to collect herbs, but it also gave them the opportunity to spend some time alone. Some very lovely time alone. Paul reached back for Hugh’s hand, their fingers intertwining. They stopped in the middle of a small clearing. “Perfect.”

“Okay.” Hugh smiled. “Why here?” 

“It’s... ah...” Paul’s words caught in his throat for a moment at the brightness of Hugh’s smile. “It’s solid ground, for starters, and a relatively open area. Far enough from the city that we won’t have anyone watching us, but close enough, I’m hoping, not to land us in a place like,” he squeezed Hugh’s hand, “like last time. Anyway, the first couple trips I need to make on my own, just to make sure I have my bearings. Then, I’ll see if I can bring you with me.” Paul brushed a hand across his shoulder and Ripper appeared there. “Listen, wherever we go, I need you to bring me right back here when I ask you to, okay?” Paul looked at Hugh and Michael. “He’s ready.”

Michael frowned. “Do you... maybe want to sit down? In case you pass out again?”

Paul nodded. “Good point.” He sat cross-legged on the ground, shuddering as the remaining chill seeped through his robes. Hugh knelt behind him, one hand on Paul’s waist to support him. Paul reached into his pouch and removed a bit of dried mushroom. “Here goes.” He placed it on his tongue, and his body slackened in Hugh’s arms. Hugh tried not to worry; Paul had returned safely before, and he actually knew what he was doing this time, and he had a plan, but Hugh still found himself counting the seconds until he felt Paul jerk back into consciousness. 

“Hugh?” Paul twisted around to look at him. “I didn’t go anywhere, I’m guessing? Physically, that is.”

Hugh shook his head and gently stroked Paul’s hair. “How do you feel?”

“A little fuzzy,” Paul admitted. “Like I’ve had a drink or two. Nothing like before.”

“I want to make sure. Stand up.”

Paul did so, without help and without any wobble in his stance. “Satisfied?”

“You can’t expect me not to worry.”

“I don’t.” At the cock of Hugh’s eyebrow, he added, “Really. It’s just strange, getting used to it.” Paul drew a knife from his pouch. “This one needs to go into my blood. But you can patch me up right after.”

“Let me.” Hugh held his hand out for the knife. He could at least position the wound where it wouldn’t bleed too badly. He held Paul’s left hand between them, then sliced, not too deep, across one of the smaller veins in his palm. Paul rubbed another bit of mushroom into the tiny pool of blood that was beginning to form, and vanished.

Hugh moved to stand beside Michael as they awaited Paul’s return, breathing slowly, deliberately, as he again counted the seconds. “He’ll be fine,” she tried to reassure him. “He made it back on his own before, and this is a controlled environment. He knows what he’s doing.”

“I know that. And yet, I keep thinking, what if I lose him?” At Michael’s frown, he added. “Sorry. I didn’t mean--” 

“You don’t need to apologize. I wasn’t fair to you, before. Your happiness isn’t keeping Philippa from me, and there’s always room for more love in the world. So, well, I guess I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Before Hugh could respond, Paul emerged nearly on top of them. “How was it?” Hugh asked. 

“About the same. Only this time I felt more... present, I guess you would say.” 

“Well, you were actually there this time, so that’s understandable.”

One corner of Paul’s mouth turned up, that little, hidden smile that he reserved for Hugh. “So now, we go together.” He massaged his palm where the cut hadn’t quite scabbed over yet, then removed a vial from his pouch and handed it to Hugh. “This is the mold. So if Saru was right, it will take us to the same place I’ve just been.”

Hugh tipped a few spores from the vial into Paul’s cupped palm, then closed his hands around Paul’s. He gasped as the breath was almost immediately knocked out of him, blinking as the dull light of winter dissolved around him, replaced by a scene much like the one they’d just left, only... brighter, somehow. He understood Paul’s previous disorientation; the assault on his senses was dizzying. 

Yet, it was incredible. He’d never before seen colors so rich, breathed air so pure. Paul’s hands where they touched his set his skin ablaze, and Paul himself... “Have you always been so beautiful?”

Paul blushed and ducked his head, laughing softly. “It’s my understanding that the atmosphere here sort of... accentuates what was already there, making everything crisper, clearer. Giving us heightened sensations, essentially.”

“Then I guess you have been; I’ve just never been able to appreciate it quite like this before.” Before Paul could respond, Hugh’s lips were pressed against his, enveloped in their warmth. His tongue caressed those lips, then dove between them, and the taste of Paul was more than he remembered as well, spice and earth and so very human. He sank to the ground, pulling Paul on top of him as arousal took over, and...  _ right, heightened sensations.  _ “I think we should go.”

“So soon?” Paul worked a knee between Hugh’s thighs while planting kisses along his neck.

“Michael’s waiting for us, and...” Every inch of skin was tingling now at Paul’s presence and Hugh arched into him with a moan. “Mmm, we  _ really  _ should go. This place is getting the better of me.”

“Ugh, you’re right.” Paul rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow, the opposite hand gripping Hugh’s. “Ripper, take us home.”

Hugh felt the rush of travel move around him once again, and opened his eyes to find himself still on the ground, Michael standing nearby, raising an eyebrow at them. 

“All done, then?”

“Ah...” Hugh scrambled to his feet.

“Not quite.” Paul stood and searched for his belt pouch, which had twisted itself around to his back, and pulled out the morel. “We still don’t know where this fellow comes from.” He broke off a piece and handed it to Hugh, who crushed it between his fingers, then withdrew his knife again, reopening the wound in his palm. “Let’s go.”

Again, Hugh took Paul’s hand and pressed the bits of mushroom into it. And again the world spun around him and they found themselves somewhere else. Not the bright vista they’d just encountered though; everything here seemed duller. The colors were mere shadows of themselves, and what sounds there were were muted, like his ears were stuffed with cotton. He wondered if this might be... no, he felt no fear, only lethargy, and Paul certainly wasn’t displaying the reaction he had before. In fact, he didn’t seem to feel much at all.

“Paul...” Hugh leaned forward and let Paul’s arms envelop him, hoping only to find some comfort in the embrace, but there was little to be had. “Where...” Speaking was too much effort, and he wasn’t sure that where they were even mattered. Nothing seemed to matter.

“Don’t know.” Paul was slumped against him, each of them supporting the other’s weight as if the simple act of standing was almost too much to bear. “Let’s go home.” And then they were there, and Hugh felt the weight he hadn’t realized had settled in his heart lift.

“What was that,” Hugh asked. “I’ve never felt so lost.”

Paul rubbed his arms, as if trying to warm himself. “Shadow.”

“Our minds weren’t meant for it. We belong to this world, this reality.”

“I can’t promise we won’t need to return. I don’t know where this journey will take us.”

“Do you suppose that’s how Saru feels, here? The fact that he can still recall the essence of his home, and capture it so vividly...”

“He must have learned to train his mind to our world,” Michael said, “to center himself and focus his thoughts inward. Sarek tried to teach me that, from the time I was a child. It always struck me as arrogance, an attempt at detachment from the rest of the world. But in an environment that interferes with our perceptions, it would be useful.”

Tilly was back home and starting dinner by the time they reached the flat. “What’s this?” Paul picked up a sealed letter from the table with his name scrawled across it.

“Oh,” said Tilly, “someone dropped that off for you.”

Paul cracked the seal and unfolded the letter.

_ Mr. Stamets, _

_ I’ve heard rumors of your studies over these past months, and we would seem to have a common interest. I have long had an interest in the mysteries of interplanar travel, and am attempting to organize an expedition, setting forth this spring.  _

_ I invite you to join me at my estate on Buran Street tomorrow evening, so that we may discuss your possible employment with said expedition. Feel free to invite any companions you might wish to accompany you. I look forward to the opportunity to meet you in person. _

_ Most Sincerely, _

_ Gabriel Lorca _

  
  
  
  
  



	9. Forbiddance (Level 6 Abjuration - Cleric)

 

“Leaving.” The word fell from Hugh’s lips to the floor of Paul’s front room, which suddenly seemed too small. Not that it would be Paul’s space for much longer.

“Don’t say it like that.” Paul kept his face neutral but Hugh could detect the edge of panic in his voice. “Lorca’s offered me his patronage. Part of the bargain is that I stay on his estate. I’ll still be in the city”

“I know you will. On the far end of it.”

“Hugh! We’ll still see each other.”

Of course they would. There was no reason for him to be so bitter. Sure, Paul had convinced him that it was okay to want things for himself, and he was learning to do so, but Hugh knew full well that he was acting like a child. And he hated admitting to himself why. He’d been fighting Paul’s other love, that love of knowledge and his research into the arcane, for as long as he’d known him. And now here he was, chasing after it without a second thought.

“Hugh?” Paul’s eyes were wide now, and mirrored his frown. “This is what I’ve dreamed of since I left home. Knowledge at my fingertips, and the means and material to pursue it. And you should see his cellar. Samples from all over Faerun. Not all of them fungus, but I could spend a lifetime studying them all.” And as Paul’s face lit up again, Hugh’s jealousy began to fade. Without his curiosity, his desire for knowledge, Paul wouldn’t be the man Hugh had fallen in love with. “Anyway, Lorca’s providing room and board for Michael and Tilly; we might be able to arrange something for you as well.”

“I can’t, Paul. The temple. As a priest, I’m obliged to reside there, unless...”  _ Unless he were married.  _ Hugh let the words die in his throat. It was far too soon to consider that, wasn’t it? “But you’re right. Of course we’ll see each other. As long as I don’t end up walking across town, only for you to be too caught up in your work for me.” It was a bit cold, he realized, but not unfair. Not entirely. 

“Of course not.” And as Paul’s hand caught Hugh’s chin, Hugh could see the love shining in his eyes. 

“How are you getting all your things there?”

“There’s a carriage coming in the morning to transport everything.”

“Maybe I could come along? At least to help you get settled?”

Paul grabbed Hugh’s hand, their fingers lacing together. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

* * *

Hugh had seen the big houses before, nestled just inside the city walls, but this was his first time inside one. In stories, there was always a huge foyer tiled in white marble, windows stretching floor to ceiling, sometimes a marble fountain as well with a statue within. Not to mention a grand staircase leading up to the sleeping quarters. 

Lorca’s home was both like and unlike the stories Hugh had read. He could see just bits of the marble flooring poking out between the huge rugs covering it. Heavy curtains covered the windows, letting just a sliver of sunlight through. The fountain in the center of the room lay empty, and whatever decoration might have adorned it had been removed. 

“This could be a beautiful home, but he’s covered it all up.” Hugh muttered to Paul as he followed him up the stairs.

“He gets headaches, he said, from an old battle injury. Noises and bright lights aggravate it.” Paul looked over his shoulder. “Believe me, my first priority is to make my own space a bit more homey.” He opened the door to a bedroom as large as the flat they’d just come from, covered in rugs and curtains just like the rest of the house. The air inside almost had a weight to it, and Hugh could see dust hanging in the narrow beam of sunlight.

“Let’s get started, then.”

Paul slung his pack onto the bed and walked over to the window, yanking the curtains open. Sunshine poured in, and while Hugh was grateful for the light, the extra warmth only served to make the air feel heavier. “I don’t think that’s gonna...” His attempt to clear his throat erupted into a full-fledged coughing fit. Paul was at his side in an instant, one hand on Hugh’s back as he struggled for breath. Hugh shrugged him off, waving toward the windows. “Air...” he choked.

Paul struggled with the latch for a moment but managed to push the window open. Cold air washed over Hugh and he hurried to the window, gulping in the fresh air as if he’d been drowning. “Are you going to be okay?” Paul rested a tentative hand on Hugh’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Hugh’s first instinct was to shrug the hand away again; Paul was hovering.  _ Because he cares. He’s worried about you.  _ He let the hand stay. “Just, too much dust in the air, I think.” He took a few more deep breaths. “This helps.” He shivered from the late winter breeze blowing into the room, but only for a moment before he felt warmth radiating from Paul’s hand throughout his body. “Thanks.”

“If you want to leave that open, I ought to get a fire going.” Paul started loading wood into the fireplace while Hugh worked to unhook the curtain from the rod. 

“These’ll need to be cleaned.”

“Just leave them outside the door, I think?” A spark jumped from the tip of Paul’s finger onto the kindling, and soon the room was filled with sweet-smelling warmth. “Now, what?”

Hugh lifted a corner of the rug with his foot. “This has to go.” 

The rug would have taken them the better part of the afternoon, but a few levitation spells from Paul took care of any furniture in the way, and then it was easy enough to roll up. There wasn’t much to do with the rug after that but prop it up awkwardly in the corner, but the sunlight across the floorboards already made the room feel much more livable.

The bedding, thankfully, appeared to have been freshly washed, and Hugh fell across the bed. Paul appeared beside him, taking his hand. “See, it’s not so bad.” Hugh didn’t say a word, just smiled as he wrapped his hand around Paul’s, then pulled, bringing a laughing Paul tumbling down on top of him.

“No,” Hugh muttered in between kisses, “I think... it’ll be... okay.”

They lay there for a while, not speaking, barely moving, just enjoying each other’s presence, until they heard a knock at the door. “Mr. Stamets?”

“That’s Lorca,” Paul whispered. “I’d best see what he wants.” They both rolled out of bed and Paul edged the door open. The man on the other side ducked away from the light, shielding his face with one hand. “Sorry, sir.” Paul slipped into the corridor, Hugh behind him. 

“Looks like you’ve settled in.” Lorca glanced at the pile of curtains near the door. “I’ll see that these get cleaned, or find you a fresh set if that’s what you’d prefer.” He looked at Hugh now, and he wasn’t sure if it was the man himself, or just being back in the mustiness outside the room, but something in Lorca’s gaze chilled him to the pit of his stomach.

“Yes, sir. This is my, ah... my...”

“I’m Hugh.” He took Paul’s hand and raised it to his heart protectively, then squeezed it and let it go. “And don’t worry, I was just leaving.” Hugh hurried down the stairs and out the front door, relieved to be out of the suffocating closeness of the house, but not stopping until he reached the street. He stood there for several minutes, desperately breathing in the winter air, before beginning the long walk home.

He wasn’t sure whether he expected Paul to come after him or not, but he didn’t, and Hugh was surprised to see him in the temple the next day, waiting patiently for morning prayer to end. “What are you doing here,” Hugh whispered as he ushered Paul into the vestibule. 

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“You came all the way here, just for that?”

“Of course I did.” 

And of course he was telling the truth. For all that Lorca’s home, and his person, had unsettled Hugh, he knew that Paul loved him, and it was as real now as the day he’d first realized it. Still, “I don’t want you working with him.”

Paul stepped back, looking over Hugh warily. “I thought we were finished with this.”

“We were. I mean we are. This isn’t about us. It’s about him. You must have seen how he looked at me.”

“Look, I know Lorca’s a bit off-putting, but...”

“You’re not safe there,” Hugh hissed.

“How would you know?”

“I felt it, okay!” Hugh cringed as his raised voice echoed off the stone walls of the temple. “I can sort of... read people, better than most. Not thoughts or anything,” he added quickly, “just kind of general impressions, emotions and such.”

“You’re an empath.”

“I’ve never really put a label on it; it was never something I wanted, wasn’t a skill I trained or anything, but I guess you could call it that.” Hugh kept his eyes fixed on the floor. “It’s how I knew I’d be safe travelling with you and Michael and Tilly. It’s how I knew Mudd was trouble and...”  _ It’s how I knew you loved me before you ever said the words.  _ “...it’s how I know something isn’t right about Lorca.”

“I believe you. But I have to do this.”

Hugh shook his head. “Don’t. Tell him you changed your mind. If it’s about resources, there’s got to be someone else, somewhere else... we can go together, I can...”

“It’s not that simple. When we met, he made a point to tell me that he’d sent for me only after finding no one in the mages’ guild who could assist him.”

“So you’re afraid he’d turn you in? I thought guild registration was just a formality, that they don’t really care, as long as...”

“As long as I’m just casting someone else’s spells. This is an entirely new application of magical theory that I’m developing. If they find out I’ve been keeping this knowledge to myself, I lose everything: my notes, all my materials, will belong to them.”

“But if he’s threatening you...”

“Then at least I’ve got you watching my back. Which I’m grateful for.” He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Hugh’s lips. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Hugh’s stomach churned at the thought of Paul willingly going back to that house, but he knew there was nothing more to be gained by arguing. “I’ll come see you when I can.”

Hugh made good on his word, visiting Paul whenever he had even half a day free. Lorca was rarely around; Paul said he tended to keep to himself most of the day. As long as they kept to the grounds or in Paul’s room, the atmosphere didn’t much bother him either. It didn’t take long for the fear Hugh had felt that first day to fade to a dull discomfort in the back of his mind. 

The news of the expedition brought it back, however. 

“There’s no chance that he’d let you do this on your own? He did recruit you for your knowledge, after all; he ought to trust it.” They were sitting on Paul’s bed, the window cracked open like Hugh preferred, and here on the edge of spring, the breeze coming in was almost pleasant.

“I suggested that actually; asked if he might be more comfortable staying at home. But he insists on leading his expeditions. Says he needs to get out sometimes.” Paul put a hand on Hugh’s knee. “I know. I wish it could be like last time. Mostly, anyway. I’d tell you you don’t have to come...”

“It wouldn’t do any good.”

“I know. Which is why I’m not going to. You’re always looking out for me, and I appreciate that.” He turned to face Hugh more fully, pulling his knees up onto the bed. “Is three weeks enough notice?” 

“It’ll have to be.” 

* * *

When Paul mentioned the volume of samples they intended to collect, Hugh wondered how they planned to carry so much home through the forest, but it turned out that Lorca owned a variety of magical containers. Anything they wanted to keep was tucked into a bag or box or pouch that would reduce its size and weight to almost nothing.

As for Lorca himself, Hugh was no more comfortable in his presence than he’d been at their first meeting. He kept his distance as much as he could while they were walking, focusing his attention on Paul and the others as best he could while still maintaining awareness, but when he drew too close, there was still that suffocating feeling from the house. And when Lorca made eye contact, there was something else, something he couldn’t quite place...

“Mr. Stamets.” Lorca had come to a stop in front of them. They were standing at the edge of a clearing where the river skirted the edge of the forest. “I think this is the right spot for your demonstration.”

“What demonstration?” Hugh ignored Lorca’s glare as he directed the question toward Paul. 

“He’s told you of the headaches I suffer from, I assume?” Lorca didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ve heard of an herb that may provide some relief. It grows only in the Shadowfell.”

“Paul!” Hugh stepped back. “You remember what happened last time, don’t you? How we both felt?” 

“Yes. But I’ve been reading journals from other planar travellers, and all my sources agree that this is the safest place in the area to cross over.”

“Safest doesn’t mean safe!”

“Hugh...”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” 

And Hugh couldn’t respond to that, because he knew Paul was right. They would have had this same conversation a day or two or a week ago, and Paul would still go, and Hugh would still follow because what choice did he have? “Well,” Hugh tightened his pack on his shoulders, “if we’re going, let’s go.”

Hugh took Paul’s knife from him and tested the blade;  _ still sharp, good _ . He cut open Paul’s palm like he had before, careful to minimize any damage.  _ There has to be a better way to do this. _ He then pocketed the blade and took Paul’s other hand, Michael and then Tilly on his other side. Ripper appeared on Paul’s shoulder and Lorca tipped some powder from the vial Paul had handed him.  _ Wait a minute why’s he the one doing that how do I know... _

The forest and the river were gone.

Not dark, not changed, just gone.

It was all gone. The ground beneath his feet. Michael’s hand in his. Paul’s... Hugh could just feel the brush of skin against his fingertips and Paul was gone, too. All he could sense around him was dread. This wasn’t the shadow, not what he remembered of it. He couldn’t see. “Paul!” he tried to cry out, but he choked on his own voice. He wanted to cough, but couldn’t seem to get enough air even for that. What was happening? Why couldn’t he breathe... 

  
  
  
  
  



	10. Enervation (5th Level Necromancy - Wizard)

The last thing Paul remembered was falling. 

No, not falling exactly. Floating was a little more accurate. Really, just sort of existing in nothingness. Trying to reach out for Hugh, for anyone, but there was nothing to reach for. No sound that could escape his lips.

It’s not where he was now, though. Now he had hard ground under him. Maybe he dreamt it; maybe when he opened his eyes he would see the forest around him where they camped for the night. 

Paul squeezed his eyes shut, then let them fly open. He wasn’t that lucky.

A few feet away, Tilly was sitting up, her eyes darting around her as she tried to get her bearings. Michael was already on her feet, scouting the area, hoping, Paul assumed, to get some idea of where they’d landed. 

“Michael!” Tilly called. “He’s awake!”

They were missing someone, Paul realized. “Hugh! Where’s Hugh?”

“Paul.” Michael had hurried over at Tilly’s call and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Please, slow down. We’re still not sure how we got here, or where here is. We don’t even know...”

Paul yanked her hand from his shoulder and held it in front of him, gripping Michael by the wrist. “Where. Is. Hugh?” He caught a flash of movement from Tilly as she briefly glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to look at Paul. He followed the direction of the glance, letting go of Michael’s wrist. Hugh was lying there, beside the river, unmoving.

“No!” He didn’t remember his legs carrying him there, the next thing he knew he was on his knees beside Hugh’s body, throwing his arms around the broad shoulders and pulling Hugh close. “You were right!” he screamed. “I was so stupid. I should’ve just walked away. And now... now...” The sobs overtook him then and he fell into Hugh’s chest. It didn’t matter where they were anymore, or how they got there, or any of it, because...

Paul froze as his ear against Hugh’s chest detected the faintest movement. He held his breath, hoping against hope that he hadn’t imagined it. But no, there it was again, a heartbeat, weak and slow but there, and when he held a hand over Hugh’s face, he felt the lightest breath brush against it.

“He’s not... he’s alive! He’s alive; he just needs healing. But he’s... he’s...”

“Potions!” shouted Tilly. Paul looked up; he hadn’t been speaking to anyone in particular, and didn’t realize anyone had heard. “I’ve got the healing potions.” She slipped a small red bottle into his hand. Paul yanked out the stopper and poured the liquid down Hugh’s throat, then waited.

Hugh still didn’t move. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t it working?” Paul looked at Tilly, his eyes pleading, but she could only shake her head.

“Paul,” Michael spoke from behind him. “Sarek taught a technique in the monastery that I can use to make contact with his spirit, even while he’s unconscious. He might be able to tell us what’s wrong. Maybe even give us an idea how to fix it.”

Paul didn’t even have to think before nodding, teeth clenched. “Yeah. Do it.”

Michael knelt on the ground behind Hugh’s head. Paul moved to stand but Michael shook her head. “You can stay.” He did so, clasping Hugh’s hand between his own. Michael placed her hands on Hugh’s temples, head bowed in concentration. Paul kept his eyes fixed on her face, watching for any sign that she was making progress. Long minutes passed.

Finally, Michael let out a breath she’d been holding and removed her hands from Hugh’s face. “Paul.” She hesitated before continuing. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing there.”

His vision blurred. “What do you mean?”

“His essence, his spirit, whatever it is that makes Hugh,  _ Hugh...  _ it’s lost; it’s not here.”

Paul stood and started rummaging in his belt pouch. “Okay, then we have to find it.”

Michael grabbed him by the shoulders, her eyes filled with tears. “Paul, we can’t. He’s gone.”

He raised his arms and roughly pushed her hands away. “Don’t you dare. In the three years we’ve been searching, have I  _ once  _ said that about Phillippa?” Michael shook her head. “I’m going to find him. We’re going to find both of them.”

“We don’t even know where we are.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Tilly’s voice broke in.

“What doesn’t matter?” he asked.

“Where we are. Look, wherever we are, Lorca clearly wanted to bring us here. He gave you something that would bring us to a different plane entirely. And he arranged to do it here, which means he must be nearby.”

“But what does that have to do with Hugh?”

“Probably everything! You said they were hostile to each other from the start. Either this was part of the plan, or he knew Hugh was onto him so he had to take him out.”

“And how do you figure all of that?”

“You don’t become a master thief without understanding people; how they act, why they do what they do. Lorca’s the key to all of this, we just need to find out where he is.”

* * *

 

They’d been on the trail for several days. At least, Paul hoped it was an actual trail. Lorca could just as easily planted a false one. And they were following Tilly’s lead, and while he had absolute trust in her skills when they were in a city, she didn’t have the same skills when it came to tracking in nature, or whatever you wanted to call this.

He tried to put those thoughts out of his head. They would either succeed, or he would die down here, so in the end it didn’t really matter. He pulled out his canteen and gave it a shake. It was a quarter full, if that. The latter option was looking more and more likely. He took the barest swallow out of the skin, then turned to where Hugh levitated behind him, wrapped in a bedroll, and poured a few drops down his throat.

“We’ll get you out of here, I promise.” Paul whispered as he replaced the stopper in the canteen. He knew that there wasn’t any part of Hugh there that could hear him, but there was nothing else for him to address, and the thought that Hugh was counting on him, waiting for him, kept him going.

 “Paul,” Michael said to him several hours later, as they prepared to rest for the evening. “I’ve been thinking, it might be time to head back.”

“What do you mean?” He could barely hear himself speak over the sudden pounding in his head. “Back where?”

“Back home.”

He shook his head wordlessly. “I’m not leaving him.”

“Paul, we have no food. We’re almost out of water unless you want to chance whatever passes for it in the Abyss, and I’m not exactly inclined to. What good will it do anyone if we die here?”

He considered Michael’s words, and she was right. He was the only one that could get them out of here, and Michael and Tilly didn’t deserve to be trapped here because of that. He understood her desperation, but they weren’t quite at the point of no return yet.

“One day. Please. Just one more day. If we haven’t found anything by the time we make camp tomorrow, I’ll send you both back.”

“Send us back,” Michael said flatly.

“I told you, I’m not leaving him.”

“Paul, you can’t...”

“He needs me. And I will  _ gladly  _ die before I abandon him.”

Michael kept her eyes fixed on his. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

Paul belatedly realized the implication of his words. “Nothing.”

“You think I  _ abandoned  _ Phillippa?”

“I never said that. I never even thought it. This isn’t about you.”

“No?”

“Guys!” They both turned toward Tilly’s shout. “Look, we’re all a little cranky right now, maybe we can sleep on this and discuss it in the morning?”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” explained Paul. “I’m not leaving here without Hugh.  _ All  _ of him.”

Michael wasn’t finished either. “What’s the point of both of you dying here?”

“What’s the point of going back if he’s not there?” He spun around, falling to the ground beside Hugh’s body and taking his hand. “Come back. Please come back,” he whispered between dry, hoarse sobs.

Eventually his breathing began to steady, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Tilly standing beside him. “Paul?”

“Not now.” He looked back down at Hugh, wanting nothing more right now than to feel those arms around him. “You were right. We all need to get some sleep.” He dug out his bedroll and settled himself in beside Hugh and just lay there, watching him. It was a long time before sleep finally took him.

* * *

 

“Paul?” Michael’s hand was on his shoulder, her head curled over his. “As much as I’d love to let you sleep in, it’s probably time we got moving.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, then pried them back open, trying to clear the fog from his brain. It didn’t do any good. It was only going to get worse, he realized, wondering if they could have stretched their rations a little further... “How late is it, anyway?”

Michael shrugged. “How would we know?” He looked at the endless expanse of cloud and smoke above him. The only way they could measure the passage of time here was by how often they slept, and even by that measure he suspected they were covering less and less ground each ‘day’. “I think I bought us a little more time, though,” she continued.

“What do you mean?”

“I tried some of the water, from a stream nearby. Seems okay.”

He knew that even if the water seemed fine now, that didn’t mean it was, but he also knew that Michael knew that. She wasn’t stupid. And he’d brought all this upon them, leaving Hugh in his current state and the rest of them struggling to survive. He was the one insisting they stay; if anyone was going to take that risk it should have been him. He’d barely cried since they’d been down here, not since that early, desperate moment kneeling beside Hugh’s body, but he could feel tears pricking at his eyes. “We’ll still want to consolidate what we have, of course; keep it separate. Probably save it for Hugh,” she continued. 

Paul threw his arms around her, the tears now spilling over. “Thank you,” he sobbed into her shoulder. “I don’t deserve...”

“Don’t you finish that sentence. You’ve been like a brother to me for nearly as long as I’ve known you, and I don’t know that I’ve returned the favor.”

He stayed there, letting Michael hold him while the fear, the despair and loneliness he’d kept tucked away flowed out of him. Finally, as his breathing calmed again, she let go. “We really do need to get going, though. Like I said, all this does is buy us a little time. Unless you fancy finding out what imp tastes like.”

* * *

 

The terrain had been mostly flat since their arrival, but a few hours into the day’s travel it began to grow rocky and uneven. The mountains they’d been following throughout their journey were close now, but even before they reached the range proper, they were greeted by massive rocks and cliffs jutting overhead to tower over them. One of these, they could see from a distance, opened into a cave, and a light flickered from inside.

Paul stopped abruptly, settling Hugh on his makeshift cot to the ground. Tilly tugged at his sleeve. “I’d better check it out.” she whispered as he crouched down to her level. She crept across the ground, and though Paul trusted her, and knew she was best equipped for scouting, he cast a Silence spell on her as she moved away.

Though he knew she was there, Paul himself almost lost sight of Tilly as she moved through the shadows. Still, her skills were honed for going undetected in cities, and he couldn’t help the pounding in his chest as she approached the opening. Agonizing seconds passed as she peered inside, investigating the interior, and time only returned to normal when she finally turned to come back.

Then she vanished.

Michael hurried toward the cave, Paul at her heels, keeping Hugh low to the ground behind him, eventually settling him among the rocks out of sight of the entrance. He’d be safer there, Paul knew, but it still ached to leave him. He settled for inscribing a ward on the ground beneath him, grateful he’d taken the time to learn the spell after their last expedition. He kissed Hugh gently on the forehead, then followed Michael into the cave.

Torches lined the damp walls. Two cages along the back wall contained piles of bodies, whether dead or in the sort of half life that Hugh lay in, Paul couldn’t be sure. Beside the entrance, a shadowy abomination, goblinoid in form, held Tilly; one arm encircled her shoulders, the other hand covered her mouth. Two more of these flanked the figure sitting on the ground in the center of the cave. Gabriel Lorca. 

Lorca stood and took a step forward. “Where’s the priest?”

Paul drew his staff from his back, holding it in front of him defensively. “Why would I tell you that?”

“It’s my understanding that he’s... not quite the man he was,” Lorca said with a shrug. “If you want him to stay that way, you can go on keeping him hidden.”

“You did this to him.” Paul’s vision swam, whether from anger or hunger he couldn’t be sure. “Why would you help him now?”

“Maybe I won’t. Still, fact remains, I’m the only one who can.”

Paul lowered his staff; even though he knew Lorca couldn’t be trusted, that even if he  _ could _ save Hugh, he wouldn’t, the idea that this might be the only way still gave him pause. What did he want from them, what kind of price might he demand if he’d gone through so much only to bring them to this moment? Paul wasn’t sure there was a price too high to bring Hugh back.

But even as he opened his mouth to ask,  _ What do you want of me? _ he felt a strength wash over him. There had to be another way. He would find it. He raised the staff again. “All you’ve ever told me has been a lie. Why should I believe you now?”

“Very well.” Lorca snapped his fingers, and his human form dissolved, skin sloughing off and his body growing half again as tall. “I guess we’ll do this the hard way.”

Paul pointed his staff at the creature holding Tilly, paralyzing it and allowing her to wriggle free, then turned his attention to Lorca. The huge fiend had magic of his own, or an approximation of it, and he pointed a claw at Paul, sending a jet of flame toward him that he barely managed to dodge, rolling away as the flame singed the hem of his robes. As he stood again, he saw that Tilly had made short work of her former captor and was converging with Michael on the pair near Lorca.

Paul drove his staff into the ground in front of him, and black tentacles sprung up from the ground around Lorca’s feet, slapping at him and pinning him into place. In response, an earthquake shook the cavern, knocking Paul from his feet again. That was when saw he the crystal, half-buried in the ground between the two cages. 

The magical energy emanating from the crystal was stronger than any he’d ever felt. Maybe it was Lorca’s power source, his magical core. Paul flung a chromatic orb into Lorca’s face, not expecting it to do much damage, just as a distraction. Michael and Tilly were holding their own against the other two fiends; the crystal would have to be his job. He crept along the ground until he reached it, then glanced back at Lorca, making sure he was still held in place by the tentacles. Paul placed a hand on the crystal, pouring magic into it, and it began to vibrate, more and more rapidly. Paul grabbed on with his other hand so as not to lose his grip, his breathing growing ragged as he put everything he had into the spell, until eventually the crystal shattered. 

Lorca roared and turned to Paul as the tentacles finally retracted. Paul shot a bolt of ice from his staff, determined to finish him off now. But if the crystal was the source of the creature's power, it wasn’t the only one. Paul felt himself lifted from the ground and flung across the cavern, hitting the wall and crumbling to the ground near the entrance. Dazed, he didn’t even have an opportunity to dodge the next jet of flame, which struck him full on.

  



	11. Beacon of Hope (Level 3 Abjuration - Cleric)

_ Hugh wasn’t sure how long it was before he awoke. He wasn’t even sure ‘awoke’ was the right word. He could see nothing, feel nothing, yet he had some sort of awareness; of himself at the very least. So he did the only thing he could think of and reached that awareness outward, to that one thing that had always given him strength. But the comforting touch of Eldath was nowhere to be found. He was alone. _

_ Yet not entirely alone. He could sense other presences; some nearby, some less so. One of these stood out. There was pain; not physical, but the teetering of a mind on the very edge of despair. And then a determination tilting it back into hope. Paul. There was no real way for him to know it, but he’d never been more sure of anything... _

Hugh opened his eyes with a start. Where was he? The last thing he could remember was falling, choking, unable to breathe... no, there was something after that, that terrible nothingness that would have driven him insane except for that one presence... Paul!

An inhuman roar nearby grabbed Hugh’s attention and he managed to turn his head toward it. He was lying outside a cavern, and as he crawled toward the entrance he spotted the source of the noise. A monster stood in its center, holding its arms high as a human figure flew over its head toward the entrance. It then turned to the man sprawled in front of it, slashing its claws through the air between them, setting the man ablaze.

“Paul,” Hugh realized. He longed to go to him, to throw his arms around him and smother the flames with his own body, but that body had gone unused for too long; he was too weak.

His mind was another story. And now that he was released from whatever prison he now realized that creature had kept him in, he found that he could touch Eldath once more. “Please,” was all he could utter through cracked lips, but she knew his mind, and a rush of wind through the cavern extinguished the flames.

Despite the comfort he felt from touching his god once more, and from knowing that his love was alive, if injured, there was still the same sort of unease he’d felt around Lorca, and in the man’s home, and he realized who he was looking at now, that the foul atmosphere in that house was merely a shadow of his true home here in the Abyss. He let Eldath’s strength flow through him, and the cavern filled with bright light, and he heard that inhuman scream again; this time crying out in agony instead of anger. Until there was silence.  

A silence eventually broken by Paul’s nearby moans. Hugh began crawling across the cavern floor toward him, considering the possible injuries. He would have been burned badly, of course, and probably broken some bones, and who knew what other internal injuries from hitting the wall. Hugh would need his most powerful healing spells; he only hoped they would be enough.

He was only peripherally aware of conversation in the background: “He’s awake!” “He’s trying to get to Paul. I’ll help him; Tilly, you work on those locks.” And in a moment Michael was beside him. “If I help you, do you think you can walk?” Hugh nodded, and let her put an arm around him, lifting him to his feet. It was still slow going, Michael probably supporting more of his weight than he was, but she didn’t protest and he didn’t have the energy to do so either. 

She lowered him back to the ground beside Paul and he began to assess his injuries. Burns covered much of his exposed skin, but luckily the fire hadn’t managed to burn through Paul’s robes. Hugh placed his hands on Paul’s chest to examine him further. “Hugh?” Paul choked, and raised an arm to place his hand on Hugh’s. “You came back.”

Hugh nodded, blinking. “Yeah. And I’m going to stay right here.”

“It hurts, Hugh.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’m gonna make it better.”

“You already did,” Paul muttered as he drifted back into unconsciousness. Hugh continued his examination. A shattered shoulder blade, cracked ribs, punctured lung; likely all from hitting the wall. A pretty nasty knee sprain from the fall, but that was the least of his worries. Paul’s spine was intact, and he’d avoided any abdominal bleeding. He’d been lucky.

_ “Luck? Is that what you’re calling it now?” _

He looked around for the source of the voice, but no one around was addressing him. Still, something about it felt familiar. He’d felt Eldath’s presence around him all his life, even before he began his studies at the temple. He would recognize it anywhere. But she’d never actually  _ spoken _ to him. Gods didn’t generally do that, and certainly not just to prove a point. Yet he’d heard her words clear as day, and they could only mean one thing. “Thank you,” he whispered as he set about healing Paul’s injuries. 

In the end, he was able to heal Paul’s lung and his bones, along with the most painful-looking of the burns. The rest would have to wait. In the meantime, he noticed the increased activity around him. Michael and Tilly were tending to the people they’d released from the cages at the back of the cave; people whose souls, until recently, had shared the same prison as his own.

Tilly hurried to his side as soon as she noticed he was finished with Paul. She frowned as she looked him over. “He’ll be okay?” she asked. 

Hugh nodded. “I’ve done all I can, at least until I get some rest. But he’s out of danger.”

“So I guess there’s nothing you can do for the rest of them?” She gestured to Michael, who was still working with the other prisoners, trying to make them comfortable.

“If they’re feeling anything like I am, what they need most is something to eat, and a little exercise.”

“About that...” Tilly chewed her lip. “The ‘something to eat’ might be a bit of a problem.”

“Right, I guess we’ve been here awhile?” Tilly nodded. “Well, I should be able to help with that, at least.” He raised his hand and uttered one more prayer, and the cavern was filled with piles of bread and cheese and fruit, and jugs of water. 

Tilly’s eyes widened. “Is... is that real?”

He smiled. “Courtesy of Eldath. I mean, it’s not much, but...”

“It looks delicious!” She served Hugh first, then hurried over to help Michael feed the other prisoners before tucking in herself. 

In the midst of the celebration, Paul awoke again. “What’s happening?” 

“Shh, eat first.” Hugh fetched him a hunk of bread and some cheese and an apple. He was already feeling stronger, if still a bit unsteady on his feet. But he was ready to talk, and he did so. “My soul, all of our souls,” he gestured to the crowd at the back of the room, “we were trapped. I was trapped from the moment we tried to travel from that clearing.” Paul nodded. “And then I was freed, just in time to see you, to see him...”

Paul swallowed. “The crystal. That’s where he was holding you; I shattered it. That must have been what pissed him off.” He continued eating in silence for a few minutes. “I don’t understand, though. Why even let us make it here; why keep the rest of them alive.”

“The reapers of the Astral plane will not just let the souls of the dead go uncollected. If he let our bodies die, he would lose us sooner or later. This way he could hold on us for as long as we drew breath.”

“What did he want with you in the first place? Why go through all of this?”

“It pleased him to take some goodness out of the world,” said a woman’s voice, one that Hugh didn’t recognize. He looked up to see a woman walking toward them, leaning on Michael as they approached.

Paul opened his mouth wide, then closed it again, wincing as the motion tugged at his damaged skin. “Is that...”

“This is Phillippa,” Michael confirmed. “I told her she should rest, but she insisted on meeting you.”

“And it is a pleasure. Thank you for all of your work,” Phillippa said. “But most of all, thank you for looking after Michael. She can be rather... single-minded at times, in need of distraction.”

“Not this time, though.” Michael looked at Paul. “Now that everyone’s back with us, I’d rather not stay here any longer than we need to. How soon do you think you’ll feel up to taking us home?”

Panicked, Paul put a hand to his belt, feeling for something that wasn’t there. “Shit! My components!”

“Paul?” Hugh put a hand on Paul’s leg, trying to calm him. “What’s wrong?”

“My mushrooms! The ones from home. They’re burned up, gone. We don’t have a way back.”

Hugh’s stomach felt heavy, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just the food. Surely Paul had other samples somewhere in his pack. Even if not from there own plane, to take them somewhere, anywhere but here. Or maybe Ripper....

“Paul. Your theory, all this time, was that the planes were all connected, through the... what was it?”

“The mycelium.”

“Right. And if everything’s connected, then we should be able to travel through it regardless.”

“What? Just navigate it on my own? Even if we can, how do I know where I’m going? We could end up someplace even worse.”

“You found me, Paul.” Hugh looked into his eyes. “A lot of people would have given up. How did you know?”

“I didn’t. I just refused to believe that you were gone. As much as I tried to convince myself that it was over, that I had to let you go... I just couldn’t.”

“So you had faith.”

“Did I?”

“In your own way. And I have faith in you. You’ll take us home. You’ve got Ripper, and I’ll be here, and I’ll ask Eldath to guide you. You won’t be alone.”  _ You’ll never be alone again. _

* * *

 

They chose to rest there for one more night, and allow everyone to recover some strength before setting out. The next morning, after breakfasting on what was left of Hugh’s conjured rations, it was time. Paul called Ripper to him, then closed his eyes, letting himself focus only on his destination. He raised a hand in front of him, and a portal opened up, though where it led was impossible to make out.

“I’ll go first,” said Paul. “That way I’m not risking the rest of you if I made a mistake.”

“And if you did, you can just come back through,” added Hugh.

Paul nodded, but whispered to Hugh, “I think so. I’m not sure.”

Hugh took Paul’s hand and gripped it tight. “Then we go together.”

The world swirled around Hugh again, but this time not with smoke or eerie darkness, but the blackness of night streaked with blue and purple light, specks like colorful stars peppering the air around him. It was beautiful, but before he had time to take it all in, it was gone.

They were standing in the entrance to Lorca’s manor, still covered in thick rugs and curtains, still desperate for light, but the foul air that had hung throughout the house was gone. Tilly came through behind them, followed by the rest of the former prisoners, and finally Michael and Phillippa, hand in hand. Paul clenched a fist, closing the portal behind them, and it was over. They were home.

* * *

 

It had been just after sundown when they arrived back at the manor, and while there was little in the way of fresh food after their long absence, they were able to put together a simple meal from what was stored in the cellar; nothing particularly grand, but at least hot and filling. And afterward everyone found a place to sleep, or at least enjoy a night of relaxation, knowing they were safe.

A few of their guests chose to stay in Westgate and make their own way; most had homes and families to return to. Paul was happy to oblige, and with the right visualizations was able to arrange portals to wherever they needed to go. Phillippa, of course, chose to stay with Michael, and though they both agreed that they were anxious to start traveling again, Paul did manage to extract a promise to let him check up on them from time to time.

That left the matter of the house. Tilly looked through the documents at City Hall and found that the Gabriel Lorca they’d known was, in fact, a fabrication. There was no record of his existence prior to taking ownership of the matter. Which meant no next of kin. They did, however, have the contract Paul had signed to have Lorca sponsor his work.

“We just need proof that he’s deceased and that we’re not responsible for it.” Which wasn’t true exactly, but Hugh wasn’t inclined to argue the case. “Tilly can arrange that, and then it’s mine free and clear.” Paul looked away from Hugh as he spoke. It was something he did far too often now; the delay in healing had left some scarring along one side of his jaw.

“I wish you’d stop doing that.”

“Hugh, this isn’t just Lorca’s home, but his resources. Look at the people we saved. Look at all the people in this city with no family, with nowhere to go. That was me once; I could have used a home, somewhere to feel welcome. This could be that place for someone else.”

“I wasn’t talking about that, Paul. I mean this.” He took Paul’s chin and ran a thumb along the scar. “You don’t need to hide from me. How could you possibly think I’d love you any less?”

Paul tried to duck away again but Hugh’s hand held firm, so instead he just closed his eyes. “You used to think I was beautiful.”

“I still think that, more than ever. Please don’t ever doubt that.” He drew Paul into his arms. “And if that’s what you want to do with this house, then of course I want you to have it.”

“Hugh,” Paul started to look away again as they separated, but managed to stop himself and meet Hugh’s eyes. “I know you’ve said you have to live at the temple, but you’ve also said there’s no vow of celibacy or anything like that, so, well, just hypothetically speaking, what would happen if you... if we got married?”

Hugh was absolutely positive he felt his heart stop for a moment, or maybe he’d just been temporarily paralyzed. Had Paul just...  “Well, that would be the exception. And... I had thought about it, actually. I-- I wasn’t sure I should say anything... I didn’t want you to feel obligated... Wait, are you asking?”

Paul’s eyes were still fixed on his. “Yes. I am.”

“Then I accept.” He drew Paul into a kiss, and he was sure that anyone in the room would be able to sense the swell of love that spread throughout until finally they broke free of one another. “In fact, I’d want nothing more.”


End file.
